What We Do
by emberfire411
Summary: She lets him live. After that, everything changes. [A season 3 universe-alteration. Rating may change]
1. Live

**Title:** What We Do  
 **Full Summary: "** She lets Baltor live. And after that, both of their lives change."  
 **Chapters:**? (at least 30)  
 **Pairings:** Eventual Sparxshipping [Bloom/Baltor], other cannon pairings where eligible.  
 **Spoilers up to:** Besides the whole not-killing-Baltor thing, this is a cannon-compliant story. All normal spoiler warnings for the series apply.  
 **A/N:** Guess who's back on the Sparxshipping train, bitches?

* * *

She lets him live.

Looking back, Bloom decides she allows this to happen for two reasons. One is the fact that Baltor - despite being a power hungry, poorly dressed sorcerer with a mile-long hit list and a black hole where his heart should be - is human. She _hated_ Lord Darkar, and had no problem admitting so. And Bloom knew in the back of her mind that had to do with the fact his humanity had been lost long ago. She could've spent years trying to coax his original self back from under the barren shell of the Lord of Shadowhaunt, but it would've never done her any good because the human in him was dead. So erasing him from existence had been easy (the kidnapping and brainwashing her into an evil henchman also helped). Baltor obviously had problems, but he looked like a human and spoke like a human (with a slight case of demon possession, but she was sure a few spells could fix that), which to Bloom _made_ him human. She'd never taken a life before, and she didn't plan to start now.

The other reason is much more selfish, if she actually stops and thinks about it. The longer the battle with Baltor went on, the more it became obvious Baltor was just as clueless about her parents as Bloom. This could be good; it meant her parents could still be alive. Hell, her whole _planet_ could still be alive under the layers of ice and rock, knowing the Ancestresses and their tricks. And she wants them to be alive. It's a desperate feeling that's twisted her insides at night when she tries to sleep.

But more prominent than that desperation, is the creeping feeling she's wrong. That after months, _years_ of her life dedicated to resurrecting a dead planet will ultimately fail, because that seems to be the only thing she can do in reference to Sparx. And not only would she be hailed as the failure of her home world, but also the last person left of it.

It was the latter of those two thoughts that scared her most. Her mother always said she had a fear of being alone, and tried to equate it as some deep-rooted result of being adopted. Bloom didn't really care about the reason. What she _did_ know was that there was exactly one other person left with a connection to her home world and her powers, even if he _was_ insane. And if she did kill him only to fail later on resurrecting Sparx, she would have no one to blame for her loneliness but herself.

That thought was more terrifying that anything else.

So she improvises.

* * *

The party celebrating Baltor's 'death' is full of dancing, kissing, and drinking. Bloom does her best to act both happy and humble about her not-really-real-victory. In the end she doesn't really need to act very hard because everyone's so busy celebrating they don't notice how nervous she is.

Nor does anyone notice her sneaking off a mere hour and a half into the party, walking through the trees at the edge of the clearing and not coming back.

Icy, Darcy, and Stormy had given up the location of their last hideout when the Light Rock guards showed up. It had quickly been scanned and cleared out of all the stolen spell books and artifacts by the time Bloom got there. Since no smart villain returned to a hideout once it was discovered, and Baltor is the least-idiotic villain she's ever faced, Bloom figures she can keep him there for the time beng (Step 1 of Improvising: Use a combination of invisibility and levitation spells to bring said unconscious villain to their former hideout).

Her fairy dust hadn't destroyed Baltor; it could only get rid of dark spells. But luckily, that meant it _could_ destroy the nasty demon the Ancestrsses had infected him with. And Bloom figured the few hours she spent getting ready for and attending the party would be enough time for the spell to do its work, and for her to formulate a plan.

Both her assumptions are correct when she enters and finds Baltor very much awake, struggling at the fire chains (Step 2 of Improvising: Lock villain up with Dragon Fire chains) keeping him pinned to the stone chair. He looks worse for wear, the bottom of his jacket singed black and blood in his hair. A bruise is starting to show on his collarbone, green and purple mixing together and contrasting against his pale skin. Bloom's never seen him look this bad, but at least he's still alive.

He stops struggling when she comes into view. Bloom waits for him to say something or start yelling, but the cavern is silent aside from the occasional drop of water hitting the floor from a crack in the ceiling. He looks at her like he wants the gods above to come down and smite her, and it makes Bloom feel powerful. That and the fact she sees his hands twitch in the chains, trying to summon magic that won't come to his fingers.

"I assume you've heard of the Nullis Lux spell." Bloom finally speaks. "It originated in one of the books you stole."

The answer to her question is obviously a yes, because for a moment Bloom sees fear in his eyes. "You used the Nullis Lux spell on me?" he finally asks. His voice is hoarse, and Bloom can see blood on some of his teeth.

"I did."

Baltor rolls his eyes, and spits a mouthful of blood out on the ground (though not in Bloom's general direction, which makes her feel a bit better). "That's impossible. The spell takes away the powers of the weaker being; there's no way you could've beaten me so easily."

Bloom has to smirk at his still-inflated ego. "You should thank Professor Avalon. He taught me fairy dust could remove dark entities, even though you tried to tell me otherwise. After that was gone…well, stripping your personal powers weren't that much of a problem." (Step 3 of Improvising: Use a magic spell to get rid of your enemy's power) Baltor coughs and spits another mouthful of blood out in response, and Bloom involuntarily winces. "How do you feel?"

He glares at her. "Like shit, no thanks to you."

"You're welcome for sparing your life."

"Please, I don't want your pity."

"I didn't help you because I pity you." Bloom says, sitting opposite of him. "You've killed hundreds of people and caused millions of dollars in damages all because you couldn't win a fight. Your ego could cover my entire hometown and then some; I'm _way_ past pity."

"Then educate me, Your Highness. What caused your change of heart?"

Bloom doesn't answer his question. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say you _don't_ want to be sent back to the Omega dimension for all eternity. And lucky for you, there's an alternative solution."

"Lucky me," he quips. "What deserted dungeon do you plan to imprison me in?"

"Earth."

His head snaps back to look at her; the first time since she's entered. "You _must_ be joking."

"Nope. Earth is a magic-less world with enough government to keep you in check. And who knows; maybe if you _don't_ try to overtake it, I could give you your powers back." Even as she said the words, she knew it wasn't that good of a sell, especially for someone like Baltor. But she hoped the idea of getting his powers back would help.

No such luck. "So you're keeping me alive as a pet project? A convict you can reform into a respectable member of society?"

"You're not a pet project; once I send you to Earth you could walk into the White House and proclaim yourself leader of the free world, for all I care. But I'm warning you; you won't get very far without your powers."

Baltor glares at her. "Sending me to Earth with a lack of powers _still_ sounds like a pet project. Since this has turned into some sort of honesty hour, you must humor me; why didn't you just kill me?"

"Do you _want_ to die?" He huffs and doesn't meet her eye, which is the closest thing to a yes she's going to get. "So again, you're welcome."

"…You've never killed before, have you?"

Bloom looks at him in surprise. Baltor's gaze is still on the wall, but he keeps talking to her. "You don't want to ever know what it's like. Standing over someone and watching their life fade from their eyes. It doesn't even matter if you _meant_ to kill; you get this feeling that washes over you that you can't place, and it stays with you for weeks on end. And by the time you _do_ work out what it is, you've killed too many people to care."

The speech he gives is unprompted, but Bloom would be lying if she said it hadn't been in the back of her mind. "What's the feeling?" she asks when he still won't look at her.

"Emptiness." There's a beat, and he finally looks back at her. "No one would've objected to you killing me."

"I know."

He gives a humorless laugh. "Do they _know_ you didn't kill me?"

She debates lying to him, but knows that if she does now things will just get worse down the line. "No, they don't."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're a coward who fears death…and I'm a coward that fears loneliness."

To her surprise, he smiles. Not a full smile – there's still a hint of a smirk behind it, but for the time being, she'll take it. "We're in each others hands, then."

* * *

 _Other Notes:_

 _The Nullis Lux (Latin for " **no power** ") spell is partially inspired by Aang's powers in __**Avatar: The Last Airbender**_ _. No such spell has ever been mentioned in the Winx world, but think of it as a more powerful version of the spell used by Griselda in Season 1 to take the girl's powers away when they were in trouble._

 _ **Baltor** is the name the 4Kids! dub gave **Valtor** in Winx Club. I watched 4Kids! and am a bitter old fandom grandma, so it's staying Baltor for this story. The same rules apply for **Sparx** , the 4Kids! name for **Domino**._

 _Because this story is written as a series of looks into Bloom and Baltor's lives, chapters will be on the **shorter side**. While this is sad, the idea is this will allow for **more updates** , which everyone loves._

 _The buildup for this is going to be **slow**. No one's having sex for at _ least _ten chapters. I can't even guarantee the sex, honestly. Sorry._

 ** _Update (12/28/15):_** _Chapters 1-3 are going through some **edits**_ **,** _mostly to fix tense issues_ **.** _If you catch some I've missed, **please let me know**!_


	2. Settle

He gets an apartment in London.

Looking back, Baltor decides he allows this to happen for two reasons. One is that he really _doesn't_ have a choice. He can either lay low on this horrendously awful planet and try to build his power back with what he can find (which, granted, isn't a lot, but possibly enough to begin regaining his powers), or he can return to the magic dimension and be immediately imprisoned - or worse. The first of those two options sounds infinitely better.

The other reason is much more selfish, but considering he's now being kept prisoner by a redheaded, goody-two-shoes teenager with a surprising amount of crop tops, he thinks he's entitled to be a little selfish. And that reason is - with it's lack of magic and abundance of ancient buildings and history - he quite likes London.

And Bloom does not.

* * *

"England? You _had_ to pick England?" Bloom mutters under breath as she walks in the door, miscellaneous bags in her hand. Baltor glances over his shoulder at her, tearing his eyes away from the city outside his window. There isn't much to do in the place with its lack of amenities and Bloom hovering around to help him 'settle in.' "I know how America works, _that_ would be an easy place to set you up in. I even have a second cousin in Canada I visited when I was fourteen - but no. You pick here."

"I suppose it's your fault for making my prison so big," he responds dryly.

She gives a small smile that's more polite than genuine, and Baltor takes notice of it. "So far today I've learned there's no such thing as a dollar bill - or, pound note, here. But there _are_ pound coins, and a twenty pence coin but no _twenty-five_ pence coin. I don't even know what a National Insurance Number is, or how to fake one for records, but I'm _hoping_ Tecna has some gadget I can sneak to help me. Also I heard two separate conversations on the street complaining about something called Barclays? I don't know if it's a bank or a store, but either way I'd avoid it." She pauses raising a bottle of laundry detergent out of a bag. "You probably understood none of that, huh?"

"Currency, documents, and something about clay."

"Close enough," she sighs. "Seriously, you didn't like New York? It's almost the same atmosphere as here, but I understand things."

"It isn't the same," he says easily. "New York was new. This place has a sense of time to it. It," he pauses for moment, debating about continuing, but after a second decides what the hell, these last few days don't even make sense so what's some more honesty. "It's a lot like Sparx."

Bloom genuinely perks up at this. "It is?"

"Yes. The planet was in the middle of a technological boost when you were born. It was adopting the technology readily available from Magix and Zenith - and doing it much more quickly than other places like Solaria. Newer buildings were coming up where there was space, but the main city still felt very ancient. Your parents were adamant about building a competition arena in order to place a bid for the Magix Games…" he trails off at the mention of Oritel and Miriam, not meeting Bloom's eyes. "It was quite a time, indeed."

When he finally glances back at her, she doesn't bother to hide her resentment. "And you ruined it all." she says quietly. Not an accusation, but a statement.

Baltor merely nods. "I did."

Somehow, that sentence seems to quell her anger, and Bloom drops the topic. "So anyway, I found out there are a few takeout places down the road from here, since I'm assuming you have _no_ idea how to cook."

"Bloom."

She doesn't hear him, taking a soap container out of one of the bags and putting it away under the sink. "There's a Thai place, a sandwich shop, and a sushi place. I'm personally not a sushi person myself, but they have ramen, which are like noodles but -"

"Stop," he says, louder, and she glances up at him, surprised. "You don't need to do this. Any of this," he waves his hand around the room, gesturing to the bookshelf and the computer and the curtains he's going to rip off the wall the moment she leaves. "I understand you feel a sense of guilt - though I'm honestly not sure who it's towards - but you don't have to help me with anything. We don't have to be friends - we don't have to be anything besides people who see each other once a year to make sure the other is alive. I have no problem with it."

Bloom folds her arms, a gesture Baltor has come to find out means she's uncomfortable. "Why would I be guilty?" she finally asks.

"Because you've left your sworn enemy alive? Because you're lying to your friends? Because your planet is still gone?"

"It won't be forever."

 _That_ sentence stops him in his tracks. "What?"

She smirks at him - which honestly is something he's never seen on her face before. "As _touching_ as it is having you around, I would like to meet my parents someday. And since _you_ don't have any idea where they are, I can only assume they're alive somewhere. So I'm going to find them, and then I'm going to resurrect Sparx."

For a moment, Baltor honestly believes she's kidding. But the determination on her face is too legitimate. He almost laughs at her, but he feels too much pity to do it. "And you're going to do this...alone?" he treads lightly. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he upset her, but it might make her less willing to lift the Nullis Lux spell.

"Of course not. The girls and the Specialists are helping."

Ah. The Specialists. The Winx would always stay in his mind - their constant haggling and meddling with his plans. The boys were much less of a threat and therefore much more forgettable. "So your plan for regaining a lost world is in the hands of your little friends and a group of Specialists I managed to kidnap less than a month ago?"

"C'mon, you were just talking about how great a place it was! Wouldn't it be nice to have our _home planet_ back?"

"Of course it would," he says, somewhat irritated. "But I know better than to hope for things that can't happen."

"Well I refuse to believe that. And neither should you; it's really the least you can do after everything."

"Do you think I don't regret destroying Sparx?" Baltor finally snaps at her. "Do you think it brought me immense joy to see it frozen over? Everyone with a connection to the Dragon Fire felt it fade that day."

"Then why did you do it?"

"It was that or be destroyed by the Ancestresses. As you said, I fear death."

"My parents -"

"Your parents were _monarchs_ , Bloom. Someone somewhere always hates the damn people. Sparx fought with other planets beforehand, and if by some miracle you _do_ resurrect it, it'll only be a matter of time before they do it again."

Bloom's eyes are narrowed, and he can feel the magic dancing behind them. "Are you trying to deter me?"

"No. I could care less what you do with your time. I'm making you aware of the situation you're getting yourself into instead of acting like a petulant child." He sits down on the couch and looks her in the eye. "It doesn't suit you."

He watches the anger fade and a look of surprise cross her face. "...That was almost a compliment."

She's genuinely awed, and Baltor gets a strange feeling in his chest at the sight; watching her portray positive emotions when he's around wasn't exactly a norm. "Don't get used to it." he regains his senses, and turns back to the window.

He can see her in the reflection. He almost swears he sees her smile, but the light coming through the glass makes it hard to tell. "I won't. And don't get used to be stopping by all the time. Once you have everything here I'm going back to my own life."

"I dread the thought," Baltor smirks.

"I'm sure." He watches her turn and head for the door, and after a moment of contemplation decides to try one more time.

"I meant what I said, Bloom," he turns to look at her, and she stops and glances over her shoulder. "It took a month of legal work and holding before they sent me to the Omega dimension. I heard of countless search parties being set up - members of the Magix Council demanding rescue operations come back with positive results. You aren't the first person to try and resurrect Sparx, and you won't be the last. Revel in the fact you survived a genocide, and move forward."

He expects a sort of empowering speech in return - something Faragonda would say that'll make his ears bleed and his fingers twitch to use a now non-existent voice stealing spell.

He doesn't expect a cheeky grin and a wink. "You know, if you weren't so psychotic and depressing, you'd be fun to hang around."

* * *

 _I picture Baltor living around the_ _ **Westminster**_ _area, near_ _ **Hyde Park**_ _. It's high end with old and new buildings, not to mention very proper. Very Baltor. But he could be anywhere, really._

 _ **Barclays**_ _, for the record, is a_ _ **bank**_ _. During my last visit to England, two different passersby told me they had_ _ **horrible customer service**_ _and to never set foot there. Brits, please advise._


	3. Resurrect

She saves Sparx.

Bloom's emotions are part relieved, part loved, and part confused. Relieved because after so many people telling her for so long she was living a fool's dream, she can say with certainty that they were wrong and she was right. Loved, because she finally ( _finally_ ) gets to meet her parents, who at least for now are wonderful people. She knows that won't be the case forever - they'll fight about _something_ eventually - but she's not going to let it affect her. And confused because, despite everything, Bloom knows she's taking steps into unfamiliar territory; she doesn't know a damn thing about Sparx or being royalty. It's not that she isn't excited for it, but if the past is any indication, she is _not_ princess material. And she's worried about that. The last thing she wants to do is disappoint her parents.

"Well, the girls and I can't take _all_ the credit; Bloom was the person who finally defeated Baltor."

And of course, there's that other _tiny_ little detail in London that would disappoint them even more.

"Stel, you know we couldn't have done anything if we weren't a team," Bloom tries to keep her response smooth and easy, but it's hard when her parents are standing a few feet away and their faces ashen at the mention of Baltor's name.

"I can't believe he even made it out of Omega," Miriam says, shaking her head in disbelief. "He always was slippery, though."

"He certainly posed some challenge," Flora adds. "But he was no match for the Winx Club! Right, girls?"

Stella laughs in agreement. Bloom just nods.

"It's a good thing you spent most of your time occupied with those witches, instead." Oritel says sternly, sipping the champagne in his hand. "Baltor was a deceptive thing; those witches trained him well."

Bloom raises an eyebrow. "You met him before the battles?"

"Yes; he made up some story about working in the palace. I don't remember most of it, to be honest. He posed as the head of the royal security, and faked an impressive resume from a wizarding academy on Isis. We found him out, and a few days later the Ancestral Witches began their central attacks."

Miriam smiles sadly. "He learned a lot about the palace layouts and magic vaults from us, sadly. Your father thought he was a good man, and I would be lying if I said I didn't find him charming. It's good he didn't try to get close to any of you."

"None of us ever went head to head with him alone," Stella insisted, then paused. "Well, except for one time on Tides, he and Bloom were alone for a few minutes. Nothing major though."

"He talked to you?" Miriam's eyes widened in worry.

"It was nothing, really," Bloom says. She hasn't thought about that day in a long time. "He just rambled on about having a shared past and that we were destined to be enemies. And he used to say he knew what happened to you guys, but obviously that wasn't true, either."

Oritel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's for the best; I know you're far too smart to have listened to him anyway, honey. And he would've just double-crossed you in the end."

Bloom gulps, and manages a smile. "Good to know."

* * *

With the time change from Sparx to London, it goes from being late at night to early in the morning. It's impossible to tell, though, since the sun rises so early in the summer there. Bloom's watch says it's only five in the morning, but light streams overhead, coating the streets in soft color.

But just because there was light didn't mean people were awake.

"Someone better be dead," Baltor glares as he shuts the door to the apartment. Sleep is in the corner of his eyes, and for some reason Bloom can't actually picture him sleeping. It seems too human for him. "I can't believe you're here at such an ungodly hour."

"I come bearing gifts, and news."

"Joy," he slumps down onto the leather chair in the living room and tilts his head back, closing his eyes. "I told you I'm fine if we stick to holiday visits. You haven't been here in a month, and for a while I was hopeful you had actually heeded my advice."

"Haven't you ever heard of Christmas in July?"

" _Bloom_ ," he says, half in annoyance and half in a tired groan. Something about it makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. "Tell me why you're here, and then kindly leave me in peace, considering I have no spells to smite you with anymore."

She smiles, reaches into her bag, and pulls out one of the books she'd found in Sparx royal library about the palace grounds. She tosses it over and it lands square on his stomach, luckily small enough not to wind him.

Lazily, Baltor reaches down to take the book and holds it above his head to look at it. Bloom delights in the series of emotions that dance across his face; haziness, curiosity, realization, and finally shock.

His head snaps up, and he meets her eyes. "Where did you get this?" he asks. Any trace of sleep is gone from his voice.

Bloom just smiles and sits on the couch, smoothing out her skirt. "I told you to have some faith in me."

He continues to stare at her in disbelief. "This was made specifically for the library in the Sparx royal palace."

"Yep."

"The one that, to my prior knowledge, was trapped under ten meters of ice."

"It was."

There's a pause, and when she finally looks back at him he's staring at her in wonder. "You brought it back."

For a moment, Bloom thinks he might pick her up and spin her around like a movie scene, and she can almost feel his hands on her waist. She's never been able to read his emotions so easily, and something about that makes her feel special. "I did." she finally manages to say.

Something in her tone must give her away, because after a moment Baltor's face fades back to his usual coolness. Bloom feels a touch of disappointment. "Your parents?" he asks.

"Alive. Along with the rest of the planet."

"Where were they?"

"Obsidian."

"You went to _Obsidian?_ "

"I told you it wouldn't be gone forever, didn't I?"

He shakes his head and stands, going to put the book on the shelf. "You're lucky to be alive."

"So everyone says. But my parents were more surprised I survived _you_."

Bloom sees his hand pause for a moment. "Do they know about me?"

"No," she replies immediately. "They think you're dead, like everyone else."

He nods in approval. "I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but I'm assuming I was an exception?"

"You were. They…" Bloom pauses, and Baltor turns around to meet her eyes. "They said it was good I killed you, otherwise you would've just betrayed me."

Baltor smirks, a familiar look on his face that doesn't scare Bloom like it used to. "Still not over me impersonating a captain of the guard, are they? I can hardly blame them."

"Yeah, neither can I."

He hums in agreement, sitting back down on the chair, facing her fully this time. "So is this why you came by? To gloat?"

Bloom's eyes widen. "I'm not gloating. I thought you would be _happy_ to know our planet is back. The whole dimension is celebrating."

"Of course they are. Until Sparx rejoins the political ranks, it'll be a giant party."

"It's nice to know you're so political."

"It has nothing to do with politics. I'm not going to berate you for saving our planet, Bloom. I'm just telling you, it won't be smooth sailing forever."

"I know that! I just…can you let me be happy about this for five minutes? I thought you would at least be impressed."

Baltor stares at her for a few seconds, and finally sighs. "Alright."

Bloom blinks in surprise. "Alright?"

"Yes. I've underestimated you before Bloom - both in your ability to defeat me and resurrect Sparx. I should know you're not naive enough to believe things with your planet and parents will be smooth sailing forever." He stands up again, and walks across the living room back towards the bedroom. He stops next to her on the end of the couch. "Though perhaps next time you alter the dimension, wait until the afternoon to tell me."

Despite everything, Bloom smirks. "There's no fun in that, though."

"Mmm," he rolls his eyes, then in another surprising move reaches down and squeezes her shoulder. Bloom tries not to act surprised - it's the first time in almost a year he's touched her, she realizes in the back of her mind.

"I am impressed," he says, finally. "And now that I've paid you an actual compliment, will you let me go back to sleep?"

"...Just one more thing." She says, and keeps talking before Baltor can protest. "Stella reminded me tonight of Tides, where you saved me after Icy knocked me out? I...well - why did you do that? You never said."

Baltor looks surprised she's brought the subject up. He looks like he's contemplating the answer, and after a few more seconds Bloom takes a stab in the dark. "You knew who I was then - that I was from Sparx. Right?"

"I did."

There's a pause. "Is that why then?"

"No."

Bloom raises an eyebrow. "Then…?"

Baltor thinks for another second before meeting her eyes. "I don't know, really. I just did. I was curious...I suppose."

There's another pause, though it isn't awkward. "A poor choice on my part," Baltor mutters sarcastically, and finally takes his hand off her shoulder (Bloom hadn't noticed it was still there). "Stuck in this hellhole."

Bloom smirks as he makes his way back to the bedroom. "It could've been worse!" she calls.

"I assume you can see yourself out," he calls back, ignoring her comment. "Unless there's something else of importance I've missed?"

Something pops into Bloom's head then, and for a moment she debates saying anything. She changes her mind after a moment, though. "Sky proposed to me and I said yes." she blurts as his hand wraps around the doorknob.

His movements don't stop, but Bloom watches his posture straighten, just slightly. "Congratulations." he says, and his tone is too neutral for Bloom to tell what he's feeling, if anything at all.

"Just so you know not to have him proclaim his 'love' for Diaspro on our wedding day," she says, attempting to lighten the mood.

Baltor relaxes again, and looks over his shoulder at her. He's smirking. "I take it that means I'm not invited? How disappointing."

Bloom smiles slightly. "Goodnight, Baltor."

"Goodnight." He blows her a kiss, still smirking, and shuts the door to the bedroom.

* * *

 _Bloom's Mom's name has had like 4 different spellings throughout the show's history. I went with **Miriam** for this story, because I can._

 _As per 4Kids dub logic, **Andros** has been swapped out for **Tides**._

 _Since the main location on Earth (for now) is London, I figured **metric units** were appropriate. Ten meters, for the record, is about **32 feet**._

 _The original dub of Secret of the Lost Kingdom had Bloom and Sky get **engaged**. The Nick dub had Sky asking Bloom to be his " **forever girlfriend** " (laaaame). Obviously those two being engaged poses a problem for Bloom and Baltor getting together (unless we want to bring adultery into this, which we're not). I've got a plan. Don't worry._

 _Also, Team Brits backed up the statement in the last chapter that **Barclays** is the spawn of Satan. Thanks._


	4. Detain

He gets arrested in Boston.

American security customs are a joke. A hotel address and a nonchalant 'catching up with relatives' grants him access into the country. Baltor's ashamed to admit he's spent time watching television - because honestly thinking about where he was two months ago, on the brink of universal domination compared to now, watching _bloody Netflix_ should be enough motivation to walk to the nearest cliff and jump off it - but every single thing he's watched has made the United States appear to be a tight-fisted, by the books, crime-ridden country under the ever watchful eye of a totalitarian government. But the man behind the counter at customs is half-asleep when he goes by, and obviously doesn't care what Baltor tells him so long as it gets him out of his line.

He wishes he could say the same for the officer that arrests him.

* * *

"We drive on the _right_ side over here."

"And how the hell was I supposed to know that?"

"The cars going the other direction should've been a good indication."

Boston is hot and humid; Baltor's reminded of Linphea in the summer months, only it's worse. The bright lights from the street signs and sound of cars driving along the streets, honking at each other, makes him feel more irritable and more likely to try and punch someone in the face. He didn't know how people could stand it.

"Ha ha," he bites back. "I'll surely keep that in mind next time."

Bloom rolls her eyes. "Baltor, why are you here?"

"What, I can't visit the country that raised a girl as charming as yourself?" He looks up at the street sign and, regaining his bearings, sets off across the street.

He hopes Bloom will leave, but knows better than to hope for her to mind her own business. Sure enough, after a moment, her hears her footsteps. "You know, I _may_ believe that if you were anywhere close to where I grew up. You're in Massachusetts - California is at the other end of the country. Another six hours or so on a plane."

"I'll pass - the seven hour flight to get here was more than enough."

"Yeah, back to that," Bloom finally appears at this side, barely managing to keep up with him in stilettos. "Why are you here? In Boston, on a college campus? Harvard doesn't offer a degree in world domination."

"You _are_ biting tonight. What did I interrupt, a date between you and your fiancé?"

"Not that it's even your business, but I was going to eat with my Oritel and Miriam."

For a split second Baltor feels guilt, but manages to work past it when he sees the street he's looking for. He takes a right, Bloom following. "By all means, don't let me stop you. Go enjoy your night."

"Oh no, not until I find out why you're here."

"You _did_ give me explicit permission to come to America and declare myself leader of the free world."

"And _that_ would be Washington D.C. - two more hours in a plane."

Baltor rolls his eyes. "Americans must _love_ travel."

"Baltor. You're avoiding the subject."

"Actually," he hears Bloom give a small sigh of relief as he finally slows his pace. He looks up at the old, weathered sign above the door of a small shop, confirming it as the one he'd looked up earlier. "I'm not avoiding anything."

He glances at her over his shoulder; her cheeks are flushed from walking. "You can come in you'd like, but I'd regain your breathing first."

Baltor opens the door and slips inside before she can stop him.

Bloom spends a few seconds blinking at the door incredulously. Then she looks up at the sign herself; _O'Mally's Antique Parchments_. The window of the store has books on display that look far older than anything Bloom had encountered before. She spends a second wondering what the hell inspired Baltor to seek an antique book store in Boston, then shakes her head and opens the door, going inside herself.

"...Called you about reserving a book in your collection; I was in town before heading back home, and wondered if it was ready?"

Bloom watches the man behind the counter - older, with greying hair and glasses - nod enthusiastically. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a black leather book, about the size of a journal, and hand it off to Baltor. "I'm glad to see someone else is a fan of these old poems. I just need to run your credit card through in the back, and she's all yours. We close in twenty minutes, missy!" he calls to her.

"She's with me," Baltor says, not even glancing over his shoulder. He's flipping through the book the clerk handed him.

The older man nods, and disappears behind a curtain into the back.

Wood creaks under Bloom's shoes as she walks toward the counter. The air inside is colder, but still damp with humidity. It hangs without wind, dust particles floating aimlessly in the same small expansion of space. Books are everywhere - on shelves, tables, and in piles on the floor.

"You knew Earth once was a magic powerhouse, didn't you?" Baltor says when she's at his side again. He's still flipping through the pages, and Bloom can't describe the look in his eyes. It's not necessarily gleeful, but it is excited. And somewhat...sinister.

"...I-I knew. All the textbooks I read in school said it disappeared long ago. No one talks about why or how though."

"It was stolen," Baltor says simply. "I'm not quite sure by whom; it happened before I existed, and I never really cared. But that doesn't mean everything was lost."

As if to prove his point, he snaps the book shut and waves it around. "Eighteenth century print. The seller had it listed as a book of poetry…"

Bloom takes it from his outstretched hand and flips through it, reading a few sentences here and there. "They're spells."

"They are, indeed."

Transformation, changing wall colors, making dresses - the spells are old, meant for either simple or dated things. But they're spells. "How many books like these are there?"

"Hundreds, maybe. Magic has been gone from the Earth for a while now, but books with it exist even to this day. Though most of it appears fake."

Bloom raises an eyebrow, and looks up (though not very far - her heels make her almost eye level with him). "Why find these if you can't use magic, though?"

"And you're all set to go," the shopkeeper appears from behind the curtain again, and hands Baltor a receipt. "You enjoy it."

He nods, and then turns and smiles - actually smiles - at Bloom. "I figured I needed a hobby."

She doesn't know what to do with that, so she just smiles at the shopkeeper and follows Baltor outside.

Bloom's hit with a wave of noise and they enter the streets again; groups walk by them to a bar down the street. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the 'open' sign in the window of the shop turn off. "I...am glad you're finding something to occupy your time." she finally says. "And it _would_ be nice to have someone attempt to collect what's left of Earth's magical history."

He chuckles, and they both walk in unison down the street, following the crowds. "A compliment. My, my, I thought I was the criminal two minutes ago."

"I have to stop treating you like a criminal," she says after a moment. "Especially if you're getting used to things on Earth and doing normal things like buying books."

Baltor's quiet for a minute. "I appreciate that."

"You're welcome." There's another pause, but it isn't awkward. Bloom enjoys it for a minute, until a police siren in the distance brings her back to reality. "But, I would really appreciate you _not_ getting arrested again."

She hears him laugh. "No promises."

Bloom smirks, and looks at him. His lips are quirked up in a small smile. "Want me to portal back to London so you avoid another seven hour flight and any police officers?"

"Now _that_ would be wonderful."

* * *

The clock on the side table reads some ungodly hour Baltor ignores. He should be getting sleep after the night he's had, but his mind is on other things.

More specifically, it's on the book in front of him, reading the same simple levitation spell over and over again, and then looking up at the vase on the center of the coffee table, resting in place.

Baltor sighs and pushes the book away. He knew the Nullis Lux was only meant to be used for short periods of time, and as far as he knew, it had been on him longer than anyone on record (almost three months and counting). Like most spells that weren't constantly strengthened, it should have started breaking down by now. The Nullis Lux (in theory) should have started breaking down, allowing him to slowly - very slowly - start using magic again.

Two hours nonstop, and the damn vase hadn't so much as shook.

He stands, stretching his back. He was in unfamiliar territory; he knew that. It was entirely possible his magic was still inaccessible, and would be for as long as he lived. Or convinced Bloom to remove the spell. Whichever came first (if either).

Baltor turns and heads toward the bedroom; an hour nap - two at most - would give him a fresh mind to keep working at the spell. But even as he thought it, the sense doubt that had settled at the back of his mind flared again. Maybe he could spare sleeping longer. Until morning, maybe.

He gave one last look at the spellbook, then turned and went into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

The vase lifts up two centimeters, and lands back on the table with a thud.

* * *

 _Baltor's_ _ **rap sheet**_ _\- for the record - is one count of_ _ **reckless driving**_ _, three count_ _ **reckless endangerment**_ _, one count of_ _ **driving without a license**_ _, and one count of_ _ **resisting arrest**_ _. Quite a long list. Don't worry; I'm sure Bloom will_ _ **zap it away**_ _before the court date._

 _Speaking of Baltor, this chapter's_ _ **review question**_ _is: What_ _ **Netflix show**_ _is Baltor most likely to get_ _ **addicted to**_ _? Winner gets a shoutout._

 _I know_ _ **nothing**_ _about the_ _ **geography of Boston**_ _. So if it's wrong - sorry._

 _Also; I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month! Sadly, that means **there won't be any updates on any stories in November**. I'll be back to the fanfic train in December, when we dive headfirst into Season 4._


	5. Fight

She gets attacked by the Wizards of the Black Circle. It's fair to say said attacks are the cherry on top of her horrendous first day of teaching.

It's also fair to say she really hadn't expected it. Sure, the last three years had been full of enemies and monsters, but that was all supposed to be in the past. The Trix were back in Light Rock, Darkar was dead, Baltor was powerless on Earth, and Sparx had been restored. Bloom was supposed to live happily ever after now; go on and marry Sky, learn to be a princess, and bond with her birth parents to make up for the last eighteen years.

That fantasy shatters into a million pieces when Ogron, Duman, Gantlos, and Anagan set foot onto Alfea's campus.

What's worse, she _knows_ Ms. Faragonda knows something and isn't telling them. Bloom knows she'd seen Ogron before, and it was because he was on one of the pictures down in the Hall of Enchantments (next to a surprisingly tasteful portrait of Baltor she's going to have to ask him about later). All six girls have also taken a beating, Bloom especially after whatever twisted, pseudo-exorcision they tried on her. Her arms and legs are bruised and her head hurts, which Bloom thinks makes her entitled to know why the Wizards came after her. But that doesn't seem to matter to the headmistress.

"You need rest Bloom - all you do in fact," she says after they've been in her office for the last hour pushing for answers. "And it will take time for me to figure out how to explain this to you. We'll rondevou tomorrow in the auditorium and begin discussing this."

"Should we bring a pencil and paper for notes, too?" Bloom hears Musa whisper under her breath. Tecna hits her shoulder in a warning.

"I know this is stressful, but you're all still very young to have this sort of responsibilty. Please, let me speak to Griffin and Saladin before we figure how to go about this."

"We could always start looking into things," Tecna spoke up.

"No, that's not necessary, dear," Ms. Faragonda insists. "Besides, you won't find much about them in any modern history book."

Bloom's eyes widen at this, her headache momentarily subsiding. Modern spellbooks may not have any information, but lost spellbooks from Earth might.

* * *

"Hi, Mom."

"Oh my," Baltor's voice has a dry humor to it as Bloom puts the phone to her other ear. "Calling me your mother leads me to believe you're around the rest of your pesky little friends."

"Fine, thanks," Bloom says instead. "We got settled in to our new rooms, and Flora and I are just resting before we head to dinner."

"Hi, Vanessa!" Flora calls from her bed across the room.

"Should you put me on to say hello?" Bloom doesn't need to see Baltor's face to know there's a smirk on it.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm surprised you got your phone to work, considering you're usually such a technophobe."

"The technology on your planet is ancient. Honestly you as well buy a pack of communication devices from Zenith and market them here; you'd make a fortune."

"And would have no way to explain the technology _in_ them," she finally decides to respond to what he's saying.

"Pity. Well, I assume you didn't call me to chat about becoming a cell phone carrier."

Bloom slumps down onto her bed and turns so she's facing away from Flora. She used to do it all the time in her first year at Alfea when she called her parents, and the other girl had come to expect it as a sign she was talking about personal things with her parents. More than that though, it would mean Flora would plug in the music player Musa got for her birthday and let her talk without fear of being overheard.

She waits until she hears the distant sound of music. "Well, you could say my first day of teaching didn't go over so well."

"Already falling out of Alfea's good graces? That certainly took no time."

"Not because of that. The girls and I were attacked. Bad-guys-attack."

"The witches?" Baltor asks immediately.

"No. Four men. They were looking for me, put me in a ring of some kind, then just left without any explanation."

"You let them put you in a portal?"

"No. I...we were powerless against them. Even with Enchantix." Baltor doesn't respond to that, obviously surprised. Bloom doesn't wait for him to. "Faragonda won't tell us anything, but I'd seen their pictures in this part of the school that has a detailed history of evil villains and stuff -"

"The Hall of Enchantment?"

"...It's _scary_ how much you know about this school considering you were only in it for five minutes."

"Griffin knew of it, back when we worked together." Baltor says. "So you want information on them?"

"If you have any, or even came across them last year when you were...attempting things. I thought since you've been looking at lost magical things from Earth -"

"I've made very little progress in that front," Baltor says. He sounds annoyed at the fact. "But the only history books I've recovered talk about magic on Earth; that died out years ago. Nor did I encounter anyone else with similar goals to mine last year. Which is odd, if what you're telling me about their power levels are true."

"You think I would make up that I got knocked around more than you ever did to me?"

"Not for this long...hold on," Bloom shifts the phone to her other ear, and she hears the rustling of paper on the other end of the line. "Did they say anything?"

"They said they were looking for me, and they had been for a long time." Bloom pauses. "Which really doesn't make sense, if you think about it; Magix has been running nonstop articles about me and Sparx. Almost all of them mention I go to Alfea."

"Exactly. They should have easily been aware of you; I have no doubt the furthest planets in the dimension are discussing Sparx."

Bloom's eyes widen. "Hang on. No. He didn't say Sparx. He said Earth."

"What?"

"He wasn't looking for a fairy from Sparx, he said _Earth_. He was looking for the last fairy on Earth. And he thought it was me." Bloom sat up in bed, looking out the window at the woods beyond the courtyard. "Maybe that's why the weird circle portal threw me out."

"If it was coded to Earth magic, it almost certainly would throw you out." Baltor said. "Faragonda knows all this?"

"Yeah. She said she was waiting to tell us anything so she could discuss it with the rest of the heads at school. And probably my parents," Bloom adds as an afterthought. "Now that the Company of Light is reunited."

"Which means I'm _sure_ something will be omitted," Baltor says dryly.

"Could Earth really still have magic?"

"Normally I would say no, but people thought all of the pure-blooded descendants of Sparx were dead until you showed up. It only takes one person to start a domino effect."

Bloom rolls over on the bed to face the wall again. "Was there magic on there in your lifetime? Before I was born?"

"Whispers of it." Bloom is surprised Baltor's so willing to answer all her questions. Either he really had started to change for the better or he was bored out of his mind. "Rumors swirled a group of fairies were getting ready to present themselves, but nothing came of it."

A hand on her shoulder startles Bloom. She looks over her shoulder at Flora. "The girl's and I are going to dinner," the nature fairy says. "You coming?"

Bloom forces her heart to stop beating so fast. "Yeah, let me just finish up."

"Tell your mom we're fine," Flora smiles, and heads out of the room.

"You could at least say your father next time." Baltor says with a hint of sarcasm in Bloom's ear.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks." Bloom hangs her head over the bed and searches the ground for her shoes. "I really should go. I know I should stop assuming you don't have a life, and it's _really_ weird given our...history."

"I'll see what I can find on these mystery wizards of yours." Baltor finishes.

Bloom sighs in relief, though she isn't sure why. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me before I've found anything. But if there are a band of powerful wizards roaming about Earth trying to find what's left of its magic, I can assure you I'll beat them to the punch."

"Right, I'll hold my breath for the day you suddenly throw fireballs again."

"Doubting Faragonda _and_ gloating. Are you sure you're Bloom?"

Despite everything, she laughs. "I'll keep you updated. You'll do the same?"

"I don't know. I'm so busy with all of these mortal things; television and reading three-inch-thick history books."

"Baltor."

"Also food. The things you have to eat on this planet are unbelievable."

"I'm hanging up!"

"Before you do," Baltor's voice suddenly turns serious. "Watch yourself. Your past with Faragonda is much more positive than mine, but it is not above her to withhold information for the sake of making her job easier."

Bloom bites her lip. "I know. I'll be careful."

"You dying means I never have the chance to regain my powers, so don't die."

" _So_ not happening!"

She hears a chuckle, and he hangs up.

* * *

 _If you're familiar with xBloomStarx and I, you'll know we're both on_ _ **#TeamShadygonda**_ _, as Ms. F_ is _notorious for withholding pretty vital info from the Winx girls at really important times._

 _This chapter's popular trope is_ _ **Talking to Someone on the Phone and Pretending It's a Parent/Guardian.**_

 _Last chapter I asked_ _ **what show on Netflix**_ _Baltor would be binging during his time on Earth for the sake of bragging rights. The winner of said bragging rights are_ _ **SwirlyPasta**_ _and_ _ **lala**_ _, with_ _ **The Blacklist**_ _._

 _For some ungodly reason, I am on a roll with **writing chapters** (probably because I'm **procrastinating with finals** ). Because of that, this story will update again on **December 16th.**_


	6. Discover

He finds the last Earth fairy.

Baltor holds up his end of the bargain, barely. After Bloom gives him a name - The Wizards of the Black Circle - he manages to find some minimal information. They're a band of wizards from Earth, relying on dark magic to destroy the light magic that rested there. The magic they _do_ possess is nothing to scoff at, but without fully eradicating all the light magic from Earth, there's little they can do to the dimension. Faragonda obviously knows this, because Bloom knows it when she calls him later.

She does more of updating him; there's a single fairy left, likely unaware of her powers. She lives in Gardenia. Bloom and the Winx are going there to find her. They're planning to try and integrate magic back into the dimension (they have a _long_ argument during that call). And, finally, she's busy with normal 'Earth' things, and will call when she has more information.

Baltor doesn't mind the lack of updates. He feels like a librarian trapped behind thick wooden doors, only existing to provide information, catering to Bloom's every whim. It's beginning to annoy him, and he has more important things to do.

Namely, work on regaining his magic.

He notices soon after Bloom's first encounter with the Wizards it can be accessed. It's fragmented and weak, and gaining control of it has to be treated like learning to walk or talk. It's infuriating, but Baltor forces himself to work on it, sometimes for days straight without stopping. He can manage small spells - lifting, changing colors of things, creating small flames in the palm of his hand. Some spells work better than others. The progress he makes is better than expected, but not nearly as fast as he'd like.

He also doesn't know what he'll do when - or if - he returns to his full power. It's something he'll have to discover with time.

One of the particular spells he learns to do with ease is teleportation - only between locations on Earth, but it's better than plane rides. He doesn't know why his magic can't send a person seventy feet in the air and drop them back down but _can_ send him to the center of Paris in two seconds, and doesn't care. Baltor decides strengthening the magic in one area could lead to it opening up in more, like a streetlight shining into the opening of an alley. He quickly learns he can make it halfway around the world and back so long as he has an hour or two between jumps to rest.

So he does. Every other day for two weeks.

To Gardenia.

* * *

Bloom spends most of her time at a bar on the beach, ordering smoothies with the rest of the Winx and talking to the local band (half the time playing with them for a song or two up on stage. He never knew Bloom could sing). Baltor uses a disguise spell the first few times he shows up, but eventually gives up the ruse because so long as he sits at the end of the bar, no one notices him.

Oddly enough, he befriends the pink-haired bartender that works most nights, albeit unintentionally. She's young, hardworking, and the only one who attempts to carry out a decent conversation with him (the main owner of the bar usually works the room, but Baltor admits he seems decent. Several people also ask him to dance, on occasion. He declines). But their cornerstone of friendship is her muttering about how annoying the Winx are when they show up, and Baltor's amusement at the fact.

He also senses the magic on her in an instant.

"The blonde one is the worst," she says one night, topping his drink off. "She acts like watermelon is the greatest invention ever, even though it's been around for centuries."

Baltor laughs at that and risks a glance down the bar at Stella and Layla, just turning away with drinks in hand. "Perhaps you should tell me what you really think."

She smirks. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that they're so…"

"Positive?" he attempts to fill in.

"Entitled." she says instead. "Well, not _all_ of them. The brunette and the redhead are alright. Look, I've been doing this since high school, and I've gotten good at reading people from behind the counter. And those girls - there's something off about them."

Baltor assumes it's the magic she senses, but plays along. "You're sure you're not just jealous?"

Her mouth drops in mock surprise. "I am _offended_ at the idea, sir. Jealous of a group of airheads."

"You just said they aren't all airheads."

"They act like it around Andy, Mark, and Rio," she huffs. "If they keep taking their stage time my dad will have to hire them."

"Right, not jealous at all." He smirks at her and takes a sip of his drink, raising his eyebrows challengingly as she glares at him.

"At least I don't _like_ them," she shoots back, challenging.

Baltor chokes on his drink.

"Don't pretend," she insists, grabbing a rag and wiping down the bar. "You're here _every time_ they play. So which one is it? The brunette one?"

"No," he says sharply, the previous humor gone. "It's not like that." He watches her blink in surprise, and sighs. "I - It's...complicated. The redhead."

"Andy's ex girlfriend? Bloom?"

"Yes."

"...How do you even know her? She went to boarding school all throughout high school. This is the first time she's been back in a while."

"She...helped me in a situation, a few months ago. We're not friends...but I owe her my life."

"Whoa. Serious philosophical stuff. Sounds like fun."

Baltor smirked lightly. "Don't tell her I'm here."

"Your secret is safe with Roxy Morgan," the girl draws an x on her chest with her left hand. "But if I were you, I'd stop sitting at the bar. She can see it from the stage when she performs."

* * *

Five days later he's back, and can sense the pent-up anger Roxy has. It's making her magic fritzy, like it could explode at any moment.

"You need to calm down," he says as she places a beer in front of him.

She has a brave face, but her eyes are standoffish, as if looking for a fight. "I'm fine," she mutters, her voice tense.

Baltor grabs her hand before she can walk away. "No, you're not. You look like you could punch a man twice your size and knock him out cold."

"What like you?" Roxy snaps, then closes her eyes in regret. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just stressed with work and figuring out college and involved in a not so legal scheme and those _girls_ … I just feel so jumpy all the time, like I'm ready to burst." She groans in annoyance and pulls her hand out of his grasp. Baltor watches a bottle behind her inch forward a few centimeters on the counter. He rounds off a quick spell and keeps it from tumbling over and shattering on the ground.

The magic from the girls (and maybe even him) is awakening her own. It's a proven theory; he's seen papers on it back on Sparx. Baltor knows at this rate, her magic will be picked up by the Winx - and the Wizards - in a matter of days. She needs to know, but he also knows his own minimal magic will be less than convincing. And what would he even do; teach her? Be 'one of the good guys.' The thought that _this_ is what a magic-less life has led to, contemplating good deeds, makes him want to want straight into the Pacific Ocean.

"Go and take a breather," he says instead." Five minutes. I'll tell your father if he asks. It's better than you taking it out on the customers." He knows he has her; Roxy prides herself on being friendly to patrons - even the Winx.

"Yeah, yeah okay." She takes a deep breath, and smiles a little. Baltor feels the tension in the air decrease. "You sure you don't want a job here? You'd keep me sane."

"Serving up fruity drinks just isn't appealing," he smirks. "Go."

She does. For the next few minutes Baltor watches the patrons moving about. Klaus comes by, and he lets him know about Roxy. He's not pleased but thanks him, and takes over at the end of the bar until she comes back.

A few more minutes and he hears footsteps heading towards him, then feels a pair of arms go around him, and a head rest against his back in a sort of hug. Baltor questions the gesture, but allows a small chuckle anyway. "A bit easier to just say thank you, isn't it?" he asks. "I didn't realize we were so friendly."

The laugh dies out as he sees Roxy come back around the bar and stop cold when her eyes hit him. "Oh," she says, very quietly.

"I am so gonna kill you," Bloom says from behind him.

Baltor sighs. "It's fine," he says to Roxy, and she nods and goes off to bust tables.

Baltor turns around in the bar chair and comes face to face with Bloom. She's dressed much more casually, her hair up in a ponytail. "I didn't realize coming to a bar was a crime in your book," he says dryly.

"What are you doing here? If I remember correctly your passport says England, not America."

"So I'm not entitled to visit? I may as well see the whole world, considering I can't go into the dimension. Besides," he lies, "I finally discovered the joys of flying first class."

"Why are you here?" she ignores his remarks. "You _knew_ the girls and I were going to be here, _and_ the Specialists. When I saw you last night I had to keep all of them away from the bar. Why not - oh I don't know - stay out of sight?"

"What, and miss out on the action? Not likely. Your planet is boring enough as it is, and contrary to your beliefs, being your own personal librarian _does_ get tiresome after a while."

"You are an ex-con. _I_ am the person in charge of saving the universe. I don't _need_ your help."

"Oh really?" Baltor bites back. "Then answer me this; who is the last fairy on earth? Because I know."

Bloom blinks at him, obviously surprised. "You don't." she says after a moment, but her voice is unconvinced.

"Yes I do. And she knows you - and your drink order - by heart."

Her head swivels around. "What, Roxy? You're crazy. Roxy's not a fairy."

"Are you daft? Even _I_ can sense her magic, and I don't even have any anymore."

Bloom sighs in annoyance. Briefly, Baltor wonders what's happened to make her this irritated, but he's too annoyed to care. "So what's your plan, then? Turn her into your new little slave?"

"What?" he stares at her in bewilderment. "Me and what army?"

"I'm sure you'd find a way."

Baltor scoffs and puts a twenty down on the bar, nodding to Kalus. "Let me know when you wake up from your little fantasy, then." He gets up and heads for the exit. "I leave in the morning. Let me know when you stop acting like the world is out to get you."

"Baltor!" she yells, but he ignores her.

* * *

He goes back to London and sleeps for twelve hours, partially to recover his magic, and partially because the idea of returning to his current world is so off-putting.

There's a voicemail on his phone when he wakes up.

" _Hi. Okay, you were right, it's her. And I think we scared her off, and I have no idea where the Wizards could be. I'll keep you updated, but_ please _tell me if she calls. And call me back when you land, even if she doesn't call you. Please."_

He waits until it's nightfall, and redials.

"We have her." Bloom answers. "She's okay."

"The Wizards?"

"Tried to take her. We fought them off. We have a new form now."

"No more Enchantix?" he asks lazily, going to stand at the window. "What a pity. It suited you."

Bloom doesn't respond for a minute. "Do I treat you like a glorified helper-monkey-slash-pet-project?" she finally asks.

"In a way." Baltor says. "But it's not like I much else to do. And admitting that is no easy task. Not to you or myself."

"Still. I shouldn't do it."

He doesn't say anything for a while. "Should I talk to her?"

Bloom sighs. "Maybe. The Specialists are working there now. You probably can't get away with sneaking in anymore. Sorry."

"Taking my magic, the dimension, and now my local pub. Is nothing off-limits to you, Bloom?"

There's a laugh; small but there. Its message clear; drop the subject for now.

"It's called a bar here. And the boys have a break between eight and eight-thirty."

"You can transport me there at eight-fifteen, then."

"Baltor," Bloom says before he can hang up. "She really enjoys you. She doesn't know who you are, but she told me about you."

"As in she likes me?"

"No. But...you may be her last idea of what 'normal' feels like. So if -" Bloom stops and sighs. "Not to tell you what to do -"

"Tread carefully." he fills in. "I will."

"Thank you."

* * *

Roxy sets a beer down in front of him. "It's been a while - by your standards," she smiles. There's a bruise starting to form on her left cheek. "Bloom scare you off last week?"

"I'm afraid so," he gives a small smile and fishes a bill out of his pocket, handing it to her. "I'm not staying long, and I don't plan to come back often. Keep the change."

Roxy stares at it in shock, then looks back at him. "I...I can't accept this."

"I think you can." He pauses for a moment. "I heard you've had a long week."

She stiffens. "And where did you hear that?"

"Just around."

She bites her lip. "You're not coming back...because of Bloom?" Roxy fills in the gaps.

"And the rest of them. Yes. Other than Bloom, I think they'd want me dead. And I'd prefer to die naturally rather than in a a cloud of sparkles."

It's a small acknowledgement; one that says he knows, but that he doesn't plan to do anything about it. Roxy picks up on this as well, though Baltor sees her run her tongue over her bottom lip, and he readies himself for a question.

"Does this insanity get any easier to deal with?"

Baltor smirks at that. "No. But you get used to it. I assume the Winx will train you?"

"...Yeah."

"Then you're in good hands. They're the only people to ever defeat me."

Roxy's eyes widen, just slightly. "A big thing, especially if you're owning up to it."

"Don't remind me. It's still a sore subject." He stands at that. "I need to go before your newest servers return. Bloom has my phone number." he says before he can stop himself, then mentally hits himself over the head. He's not helping her; it's not his jurisdiction.

"Wait. Before you do...do I at least get a name?"

She looks hopeful, almost, and Baltor's surprised at it. "...It's Baltor. Though again, best not to mention."

"Well thank you, Baltor, just this once."

Slowly, he nods. "You're welcome."

He walks away from the bar and towards the beach. Bloom waits by the waves, just able to see inside. "Thank you," she says again.

Baltor ignores the praise, just as he did when she called. "Those Wizards have certainly shaken her up. She's terrified."

"I know. She...reminds me of me, when I first found out."

"So you're taking her in for personal and not-personal reasons?" he smirks at that. "My, my, how un-heroic."

"I'm sending you back now. And please _stay_ back from America for at least a month." she pointedly ignores him, and magic sparks to life in her hands. "Try France or something."

"Bloom," she looks up at him when he says her name. "Give those wizards hell."

She smirks and nods, and he's standing in his living room.

* * *

 _Gardenia - according to a shot of the Winx flying there in Season 4 - is located in_ _ **Southern California**_ _. For those who want specifics, let's put in_ _ **Orange County**_ _, somewhere between_ _ **Sunset Beach**_ _and_ _ **Huntington**_ _._

 _ **Morgan**_ _is not Roxy's real last name - she doesn't have one in the dubs yet. But for the sake of this story,_ _ **it is**_ _._

 _Context-wise, this chapter takes places between_ _ **episodes 5 and 6**_ _, and then briefly after **episode 8**._

" _Wow ember, this took like no time at all to update!" I know._ _ **Don't get used to it.**_

 _As of this chapter, I have_ _ **a tentative plot**_ _scheduled for this story, going up to_ _ **at least 30 chapters**_ _, and probably beyond. At least_ _ **one will be rated M**_ _. I'm telling you this to prepare you, and to apologize. Basically, I plan to_ _ **rip your heart out**_ _._


	7. Teach

She ends up on national television.

In the back of her head, Bloom knew this was a matter of time. She remembers her mom telling her there'd been a story in the paper when they went up against a small earth gang two years ago. Back then, she hadn't thought anything of it. Now she realizes she should have, because being semi-famous in the magical dimension was one thing. Being world famous on Earth - the place she always counted on being a nobody in - is something else entirely.

The way she finds out isn't nearly as pleasant either. Namely, she's on her way to the Frutti Music bar in the morning and gets stopped by Mr. Ginero (the older man who runs the corner grocery store), who tells her she looks like the fairy stuntwoman on the news.

Bloom almost drops the apple she has in her hand. "W-what?"

"Stations have been running it all day," he says with a serious tone. "CBS had it at the top of the hour this morning. Girls with wings fighting scary looking guys down by the docks. Oh, Stephie thinks it's real of course, but it _has_ to be stunt people for a movie or something. Very under wraps, since no one's taken credit."

"Movie," Bloom repeats dumbly, taking her change back from his outstretched hand.

"Of course. Everyone knows there's no such thing as fairies." he laughs, and Bloom manages a smile. "By the way, are you seeing your mother at all today? I need another dozen sunflowers for the window when she gets a chance."

"I'll let her know." Bloom manages a smile and half walks, half sprints the rest of the way to the Frutti Music Bar.

Nabu and Brandon are the only ones working when she gets there. The television above the bar is switched onto the morning news, and she sees two grainy outlines that are most likely Musa and Tecna fly across the screen. A second later a clearer image - though not by much - flashes on the screen. Bloom's pretty sure it's her.

"How long has this been running?" she asks as Brandon walks up to her. The brunette gives a timid smile, and Bloom rolls her eyes. "That long?"

"The pictures don't get better than that, if that helps."

"Is it all of us."

Brandon just squeezes her shoulder. "It'll work out," he says sympathetically, and goes off to help set up.

Bloom's about to go after him and keep asking question, but her phone buzzes. She expects it to be her mother, but instead it's a string of numbers with 'International Call' flashing below it.

"Yeah?"

"I've decided this television you insisted I own was a wise idea," Baltor says in her ear. "The news is nowhere near as fast as the realm-wide-web, but BBC One is currently running an interesting piece at the top of their evening newshour."

Bloom goans. "Please tell me it isn't my face."

"Well that would be a lie, now wouldn't it?"

She stomps her foot in frustration. "How clear? The footage here isn't clear."

"Cheap, Earth phone quality. I'd give it week before they get better, considering how often the Wizards are attacking you."

"Great," she forces a smile as Nabu goes past, carrying one of the outdoor tables to set up in the sand. "There's a bar at the end of your street, isn't there?"

"...Yes." his voice comes through after a moment. "A bit early to drown your sorrows in alcohol, isn't it?"

"Probably, but it's going to be a long day, and I'm legal there. Twenty minutes?"

"Fifteen. You're paying."

* * *

"How did you do it?" Bloom asks, taking a sip of cider. The bitter taste offers little relief for the headache she can feel coming on, and knows this is _not_ a proper response to the situation, but so long as she just has one it should be okay. "It took _months_ for the blogs to run current pictures of you in Magix. How did you stay hidden so long?"

"I wasn't trying to," Baltor sets his own drink down. "While I was regaining my powers the Trix were mostly sent out for public attacks. The first time I went out in the open was when I took over Cloud Tower."

Bloom sighs. "Long after you'd broken out of Omega and regained what you'd lost."

He nods and glances over at her, almost weary. "What's so unappealing about being famous here? I can only imagine how often you're spoken about in the dimension."

"I know. It's stupid but…Earth's my home. Like, where-I-was-raised home. It's the place _without_ witches and wizards and monsters trying to kill me every other week. The biggest problem here is supposed to be what the weather's like and the economy. Not…" she trails off and rests her head on the bar. "I'm _normal_ here. I've always hung onto that. I don't want to lose it. They haven't even started believing in magic; how bad will it get when they _do_?"

Baltor stares at her for a moments, and Bloom feels fingers brush her bangs behind her ear. She almost froze at the contact, but forced herself to relax. Baltor wasn't a criminal anymore; she needed to stop acting like it. And oddly enough, the feeling of his fingers going through her is almost...normal. Most likely because of Tides, but she lets herself believe it's also because she's getting better at being around him.

His words snap her out of her state. "Things don't stay the same forever. We're two people who know that very well."

Bloom sighs again. She knows better than to expect Baltor to coddle her, especially when it came to her own magic. "I know, I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Change is difficult," Bloom rolls her eyes as she catches the sarcasm in his voice. Baltor picks his drink back up and swirls it around in his glass. "But if you make a big enough effort to hide from the billions of cameras on this planet, the Wizards will soon figure out what you're trying to do. And it will most likely give them an advantage."

His line of reasoning is spot on, and even worse true. "We do our best. Try and stay at the city limits, train Roxy at night, stuff like that. That'll help for a while."

"For now, yes."

Bloom picks her head up from the counter and takes a long drink. "Aren't you going to ask?"

Baltor raises an eyebrow. "About?"

"Roxy? And her progress?"

"The girl hit a soft spot, Bloom, but I haven't become her life coach. I leave _that_ in your capable hands."

"It wouldn't hurt to make a friend or two, is all. I thought Roxy might be one."

"We're friendly. A big difference. Besides, Earth is a bit too...quaint. Finding people of interest here is difficult."

"You could always hit up a prison." Bloom says dryly. "I'm sure they're more your style."

"Ha ha."

Bloom rolls her eyes again and rests her head on the counter, letting the soccer (wasn't it called football over here?) game on the television provide ambient background noise. She pushes her drink aside, resolving not to have any more until she drinks a glass of water or eats something. She glances at Baltor out of the corner of her eye, but his eyes are off of her, towards the game.

It quiet for a few more minutes and the bartender brings over a small bowl of nuts before anyone speaks. And it's Baltor, sighing and turning to face her. "Alright, what is it? I may be powerless, but I can still sense you through the Dragon Fire connection. You want to ask me something."

"It's nothing."

"Bloom."

She bites her lip. "I don't even know how you would go about it, if you even said yes." He continues staring at her, and she sits up. "With the Wizard's dark powers, and us needing to train Roxy as fast as possible...I was wondering if there was a way you could...show me any spells. Ones you remembered."

Baltor blinks in surprise. "Are you asking me to _train_ you?"

"Sort of?"

"Without any powers?"

"Look if it was a dumb question I'm sorry -"

He holds up a hand, and Bloom falls silent. "Why would want my help? Out of the spells I do remember, most of them require dark magic to operate. They'd be of no use to you."

"I've accessed dark magic before. Everyone has some in them; you know that. And I have more from my encounters with Darkar."

"Of course I know that," Baltor finishes his drink, setting the empty glass down on the counter. "But you've never resorted to using dark magic to fight your battles. Not even with me."

Bloom shrugs.

"They have you scared."

"I'm not scared," she snaps. "I just want to get this handled as quickly as possible. The Wizards are reckless, and they're putting the general population in danger. I won't let what happened to Sparx repeat itself here."

Baltor stares at her for a few moments. "While your efforts are admirable, you know Roxy is far from completing her training. Which gives the Wizards ample time for more attacks. Like it or not, you're going to be found out. And the public will just have to get used to it. The answer in this situation is patience, not a quick power trip." He pauses, taking note of the defeat in her eyes. "And I suspect you know that already."

"And what makes you suspect?"

"You're the smartest out of your group."

The comment makes Bloom laugh, and she raises her glass, finishing it in one gulp. "I could get used to the drinking age here."

"Though if you're planning to go back to Gardenia today…" Baltor pointedly trails off, glancing at the bottle.

"I know, I know, too much alcohol messes with magic. I'm only having one." Bloom stands and stretches, pulling a twenty out of her wallet and setting it on the bar. "I need to get back."

Baltor rolls his eyes, picks up the twenty, and exchanges it for a twenty pound note. "Send my regards to the Wizards."

The comment makes Bloom pause, and she glances back at Baltor. "They haven't showed up here, right? The Wizards. I'm sure they're trailing us - they wouldn't be able to learn our location so quickly."

"They haven't been around, no."

"Well, do you think they will be?"

"I doubt it. The Wizards have much bigger prizes to fish for," he gestures to Bloom, and she narrows her eyes in mock annoyance. "Besides, a few power hungry wannabe rulers don't scare me. You should I know that."

"How dare I think otherwise," she shoots back sarcastically, and pauses. "But really, Baltor. Without your powers, you should be careful."

He smirks at her. "Bloom, it's not as though they're going to show up on my front door."

* * *

 _School this semester is **draining** , hence why this update took so long. I'll do my best to be as frequent as possible with updates, but as of now **no promises**._

 _I picture Bloom as a_ _ **cider**_ _kind of girl. I also think Baltor's choice of drink would be_ _ **scotch**_ _._

 _Also, maybe_ _ **foreshadowing**_ _? You'll have to wait and see!_


	8. Introduce

He meets Ogron. Just Ogron.

Baltor didn't expect it to happen. The last few weeks the world had seemed to come alive with the realization magic (and the Magic Dimension) was real, and the more the focus was drawn to the Winx Club, the less it was on the Wizards. Past their defeat at a train station some weeks back, Bloom had said they'd disappeared underground, and changed their priority to locating and rescuing the Major Fairies.

It was taking up most of Bloom's time, which was fine with him. He spent most of his days working on regaining his magic, traveling to different corners of the world and rebuilding his spell collection (rebuild may have been a strong word; he was actually coming across more history books on the dimension compared to spells).

He knows something's wrong when he enters the lobby and finds the woman who occupies the only ground floor flat trying to calm down the building's resident old bat (Baltor doesn't actually know her name, just that she lives at the end of his hall, is well over sixty, and constantly complains about anything).

The old woman's eyes narrow when she sees him. "Bringing your riff raff blokes along here too, now? Damn Americans and your company."

"Ms. Hayes, please," the other woman says, and looks at him apologetically.

"Someone's up there?" Baltor glances towards the stairs. The landing on the second floor appears empty from his vantage point.

"There's been a man," the younger woman says, "or she's saying. Hanging around your door."

"Been there since the clock struck fifteen," the now-named Ms. Hayes snaps. "Knocked and won't leave."

It's seventeen now, according to the clock above the elevator. Baltor stops cold as a dark presence seeps into his bones. His eyes stay on the landing, and after a moment he feels it again. Dark magic.

"Do you know him?" Baltor snaps out of his state as the woman touches his shoulder. "Is he dangerous? He looks like…" she trails off, but he knows what she's thinking.

"I'll take care of it," he says, and goes up the stairs to his apartment.

Sure enough, a man is leaning against the wall opposite his door. His hair is dark red and hanging around his shoulders, his eyes sunken in, dressed all in black. He looks impatient, but also exhausted. Baltor doesn't need much to know whatever magic he has is at low point - if it weren't he would've felt it the moment he stepped in the building.

"Can I help you?"

The man jumps, then pauses when he sees who's talking. His eyes narrow, and he straightens up, trying to look menacing. It's of little help, considering he and Baltor are the same height. "I'm looking for Bloom." he says the fairy's name like it's a threat.

Baltor keeps his posture relaxed and walks to his door. He makes his voice sound uninterested. "I hate to be a disappointment, but she's not here. We're not exactly friends."

"You're not? Well you certainly could have fooled me considering how often she's been by."

Baltor raises an eyebrow as his eyes slowly rake over the man. He's no fool; he knows this is Ogron. Bloom's sketches she'd sent over months ago are a dead ringer, as are the images he's seen on television. "If you're here to kidnap me and use me as bait, I'm afraid your plan has already failed. The rest of the Winx Club would sooner drop me in Omega and throw away the key then save my life."

Ogron laughs, but it's more biting than friendly. "You're a wise man."

He slides his key into the door and undoes the lock, mentally using his small magic supply to create a shield. "Would you like to know the most important thing I learned from spending the better part of a year trying to kill those six brats?"

The redheaded man looks curious.

"Work alone." Baltor pushes the door open and goes in without looking back.

He expects to hear it shut, but instead there's a _thump_ as though it's been blocked off. Baltor glances over his shoulder to find Ogron - and his boot - in the doorway. "I wouldn't be here if I had any other options. I'm begging you, I'm powerless."

"Welcome to my world." he responds dryly.

"You said you wanted to kill the Winx. Allow me to provide you an opportunity to do so."

Baltor stops at this. "You have a way to kill the Winx?"

"That depends on if you're willing to listen."

He stares at the man for what feels like a very long time, though in reality it's only a few seconds. Baltor weighs the pros and cons briefly in his head, before turning and going into the kitchen. "Would you like a drink?" he calls over his shoulder, taking note of the curiosity on Ogron's face.

"A drink would be wonderful." the other man answers after a moment, and Baltor hears his footsteps as he enters the living room.

He takes two glasses from the shelf and one of the more expensive bottles of alcohol he's bought. "So," Baltor drawls, passing one to him, "Please, enlighten me on your apparently groundbreaking idea."

Ogron chuckles, and takes a seat on a barstool at the counter. "From what I've last heard, the Winx have rescued the Major Fairies. And it didn't end so well."

"Did it not?"

"Seems the blame for their imprisonment has shifted from us to the humans, who should be eradicated. Bad news for you hiding out here, I take it."

"It would be." Baltor stays cautious as the man speaks, making sure to show as little emotion as possible. "I suppose there's a solution to that up your sleeve?"

"If you were asked," Ogron leans back in the chair, "what is the Winx's biggest weakness?"

Baltor doesn't need to think long. "They show mercy."

The redheaded man nods. "Their mercy is their ultimate downfall. They'll put all of their energy into proving to the fairies the people of this planet should be shown mercy. And that's where we come in.

"Once the Winx have gained an audience with Morgana, the Queen of the Earth Fairies, my fellow wizards and I show up and claim surrender. We're sorry for what we've done, and we're ready to accept whatever punishment her majesty sees fit."

"You'll lie your way into the palace and destroy them when their guard is down." Baltor gives a small, approving nod. "But you're in no condition now to fight them; how could you take them on there?"

"With this." Ogron reaches into his pocket and slides a small, intricate ring across the bar.

Baltor picks it up and examines it as Ogron continues to speak. "The Black Circle has been the source of our power for years. It's weak now, but if it gets close enough to Morgana to drain her, we'll have more than enough power to wipe them out. And once that's done, we can let _you_ in."

The man stares at Baltor expectantly, who finally slides the ring back. "You're through, I'll give you that."

"Research is vital to success." Ogron gives him a strange look as if debating whether or not to continue, but after a moment straightens up. "And of course, if you give me the word, we can leave yours alive."

He raises an eyebrow. "My what?"

"Bloom."

Baltor nearly chokes. "Bloom isn't anything to me. Not a friend, not an enemy, and certainly not _mine_."

Ogron just chuckles, getting up out of his chair and going across the room to look at the books on Baltor's shelf. "You think I don't know who you are, Baltor of Sparx? The man who joined the Ancestral Witches, turned a planet of fire to ice, and last year attempted to reclaim the galaxy? What a coincidence the person who stood in the way was the lost princess from that very planet."

Baltor stays silent.

"I'm sure you've met Roxy at this point," Ogron continues, nonchalantly. "Or at least you've heard of her. Funnily enough, she's the most annoying of the bunch, despite being the most useless. But I _feel_ that magic in her whenever I'm close, and pity the lack of potential she'll achieve. Every now and then I wonder what it would be like if I could work her over to our side - tired on occasion as well. I think of what the looks on those girl's faces would be as they're betrayed by someone they'd grown to trust. And her power, her raw emotion, and whatever else I could get out of her. And I get the feeling, Baltor, you've thought the same thing. Only with the redhead."

Baltor drums his fingers on the counter, forcing his expression to remain neutral. He takes his glass and walks over to the window himself. "It's been a _long_ time since I've entertained an idea like that." he says, finally, because he can tell Ogron is perceptive and there's no point in hiding it.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, my friend. This is your _chance_. Get her to trust you. It should be easy enough, given how often she's here. Lie to her, seduce her. And then, when you're certain abandoning her will break her, make her do whatever you want."

Ogron is grinning like a cat about to catch a canary. Baltor feels a sense of satisfaction when he wipes the smirk of the man's face.

Because he starts laughing.

He leans against the window, taking even more pleasure as he watches the anger start to spread across Ogron's face. "If you think," Baltor says after a moment, "the Winx would be so easily seduced by power, you've learned nothing from fighting them. And out of the now seven, the one _least_ likely to trade her friends for darkness would be Bloom."

"I - "

"Would know that if I'd paid even the _slightest_ attention, I know," Baltor cuts him off, and lets the smirk fall off his face. "Obviously you haven't. This has been highly entertaining, _my friend_ , but I'm afraid you've exhausted my interest."

Ogron stands there staring at him, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. Baltor watches his hands ball into fists, and feels magic start to charge the room.

He takes a deep breath, drops his shield, and uses his magic to create a fireball in his free hand. It's not as big as it would have been a year ago, but it's still slightly larger than his hand. "I wouldn't," Baltor warns lowly. "The man who by your own admission turned a planet of fire to ice versus a weak little pest such as yourself? Should we take bets on who'll win?"

"You said you were powerless," Ogron's voice is level, but his face betrays his nervousness.

"Surprise."

For a few seconds they stand battle ready, and Baltor starts calculating how much power he can put into a fight like this. But before he can stop them, Ogron lowers his stance. Baltor lets the magic hovering above his hand dissipate. "Now then," he says, turning to face the window. "You've wasted enough of my time. And it appears you have a horrendous plan to try and execute."

Baltor sees Ogron tense in the corner of his eye. "Very well." Ogron finally grits out, and heads towards the door. Baltor watches him in the mirror, and smirks when he sees the other man attempt to conceal a decent sized object in his jacket.

"Take the book," Baltor calls, and watches Ogron stop dead in the glass reflection. "I saw the missing space in the shelf; it's a volume from a history collection, not a spell book. You'll have little use for it."

"...A token of my failure, then." Ogron reaches out and grips the doorknob, then stops. "Oh, and Baltor? I'll do my best to leave your little girlfriend alive, but I make no promises. And if by some miracle she _does_ defeat me, don't expect me to stay down forever."

"Of course," he says, his voice laced with sarcasm, "because you've done so well defeating them in the past, and destroying the last fairy on Earth - oh wait." He finishes off his drink, still not bothering to turn around. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

There's an annoyed grunt, and said door slams shut.

* * *

 _ **#SnarkFest2k16**_

 _ **15:00**_ _military time is_ _ **3:00PM,**_ _and_ _ **17:00**_ _is_ _ **5:00PM**_ _._

 _If you know me, you know I'm a fan of_ _ **Oxygen**_ _\- not the element, but the pairing of_ _ **Roxy**_ _and_ _ **Ogron**_ _. I've referenced it a few other times in stories of mine. In context here, it probably isn't considered to be a_ _ **healthy**_ _ship._

 _My_ _ **updates on this have been lacking**_ _, and I'm really sorry about that (school has been a dick). Lucky for you though,_ _ **Bloom**_ _, aka_ _ **xBloomStarx**_ _has a birthday coming up on the_ _ **23rd**_ _, and since I'm poor, I'm giving her a chapter as a present instead. So,_ _ **two updates in a week.**_ _Everyone wins._


	9. Derail

She watches Nabu die.

After years of close-encounters and always coming out on top, it's the last thing Bloom expects. They survived the Army of Decay, Relix, and Baltor's insane assaults on the Winx the previous year. The Wizards of the Black Circle had been no different; power-hungry and ruthless like the rest of them.

But they'd also played Bloom like a flute. And she had gone right along with it.

Layla's horrendous state makes the redhead feel like she's failed as a leader. And maybe she has - Bloom had advocated for assisting the Wizards. It had seemed like a good call, especially watching the progress she'd been making with Baltor. In fact, blaming _him_ for the whole fiasco would've been easy - he'd clouded her judgment and made her put trust where it should never have been in the first place. But Bloom knows she has no one to blame for her poor judgment except herself.

It doesn't help the fiery anger in her gut, though.

She wants to start looking for the Wizards now, but Timmy - ever the logical one - points out they're all exhausted. And as dangerous as it is for Layla to be in such bloodthirsty company, Nebula will keep her safe. They should all go home and get some rest, and meet at the north beach of Tir Nan Og the next morning.

Most of them go back to sleep, but Bloom goes to London, fighting back tears and contemplating if murdering murderers will make her a bad person.

This is how Baltor finds her; angry, exhausted, and flipping through the small collection of Earth spells he'd begun to accumulate in his apartment (she'd used magic to get in; really though she should just ask for a key, but asking for a key felt too much like a foreign territory she wasn't ready to enter yet) looking for anything to help.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

"I don't have time for that. What in here can take three people's heads off and leave no room for coming back to life?"

Baltor sets his bags (he has _grocery_ bags and if Bloom wasn't so angry she thinks she'd have time to revel in how _mundane_ and almost _not_ power hungry he looks) down on the floor with a loud thud and stares at her like she's grown a second head. "What happened?"

"Nabu's dead." She forces the words out and tries her best to sound emotionless, but she knows it wasn't. She chokes his name out and has to close her eyes for a few seconds so she doesn't cry. "Well he's not technically dead, but he's in this coma-thing he may not wake up from, so by most people's definition he is. And it's my fault because I'm a gullible idiot for trusting those wizards… look, I already told you I don't have time for this. Do you have anything or not?"

He doesn't respond, just stares at her. Bloom can't stand the look; it's one of pity and condolences, neither of which she has the emotional capacity to withstand. She huffs in annoyance and goes back to searching through the books again, desperate for a distraction. "I'll return all your powers," she says. "I'll figure out how to make them tenfold what they were if you help me kill them."

"Bloom -"

"Come on, you're a heartless, power-hungry bastard - you should be leaping at this opportunity." Even as she says the words she knows they're a mistake. Her actions were not Baltor's fault, and she knows better than to tick him off. But there's something that feels good about attacking him with words, and it outweighs the guilt she feels over saying them.

She hears him stalk over to her, and Bloom thinks there's a good possibility she's about to get into a fist fight with the man who almost killed her a year ago. She's seen him angry at police officers and landlords, but he hasn't fought her in over a year.

He yanks the spell book she'd found out of her hands. Bloom reaches out with her other hand to take it back, but Baltor pins her arm to her side, wrapping the arm around her waist. Amidst her struggling she hears the book thud against the ground, meaning Baltor threw it across the room (and _away_ from her). Then his other arm goes around her, and pulls Bloom with her back against his chest.

She tries clawing at his arms, childish as it is, even though the angle he's pinned her makes it impossible to reach. She tries to scream instead, but shocks herself when it comes out as a sob instead.

Baltor's arms tighten, and Bloom vaguely realizes he's holding her steady. Baltor, of all people.

The anger in her dulls, and she starts to sob, trying to suck in air and blurring her vision with tears. Baltor doesn't let go. His arms stay tight around her, and she feels his chin on her left shoulder. Her ears ring, and Bloom vaguely thinks this is ridiculous, crying so much. It helps fuel her guilt, still strong in her stomach.

"I...I'm sorry -"

"I know." Baltor's voice is low and warm in the shell of her ear. "It's not your fault."

"It is though! I was in charge of them, I was supposed to protect them…"

"You can't protect everyone, Bloom."

"I - "

"Shh," one of his hands goes to her hair, brushing it behind her ear.

Bloom still feels tears going down cheeks. Part of her doesn't believe the words he's saying, but the fact he's taking the time to say them (and sounds completely sincere) makes her feel accepted. Because someone like Baltor wouldn't bother to console her if he didn't mean his words.

One hand is still in her hair, and Bloom realizes she could break free of his hold if she wanted. She knows that's what she should do, because she needs to keep looking through these spell books, and Baltor isn't Sky. But she doesn't move. Because Bloom remembers Sky's arm around her shoulder in Tir Nan Og, a comfort but a reminder he was just as upset about Nabu and wouldn't want to see her until the rondevu.

Bloom does break the hold, but only enough to turn so she faces Baltor head on. She's afraid of the look in his eyes, but it's neutral, devoid of the pity she'd seen before. It's calming, and it scares her.

"When's the last time you slept?" he asks. His voice booms in the soft noise.

Bloom thinks about it for a minute, letting her head fall to rest on his shoulder. "Wednesday night? I think? What's today?"

"Friday."

"Yeah. Wednesday then."

She feels his chest rumble, like he's holding back a chuckle. "You need rest."

"No. That...helped. Really. I should start going through those books you had, though with less anger this time."

Baltor's fingers drum against her shoulder. "Bloom, look at me."

She moves her head back from the crook of his neck to the edge of his shoulder. She's ready to start arguing, but the idea leaves her when she sees his eyes.

There's something there; something she's never seen on his face before. It's...caring, almost. He's looking at her like she's broken into pieces and he'll put her back together, even if it takes all night. It's a look that doesn't belong on his face, but she likes it there. Something about it makes her heartbeat change.

 _I want_ …

She feels Baltor's fingers touch the back of her head, and the thought slips away as her eyes close.

* * *

A car horn outside startles Bloom awake.

She jerks into a sitting position and looks around. She's on a bed, soft light streaming in through a window across from her. A clock on the bedside table reads fourteen-twelve, and a dark recess of her brain tells her it means two in the afternoon. Another second and she realizes she's in Baltor's bed, in his apartment, still in London. She's been asleep for the equivalent of a full night.

Bloom rubs the sleep out of her puffy eyes, gripping the sheets with her other hand. The linens are pure white, but wrinkled enough to indicate they'd been slept on before her. And they smell - like pine and old books, out of place but yet somehow fitting.

Her shoes are next to the bed, and Bloom puts them on and goes out to the living room before she can scare herself into worrying about it.

The television's on, and Baltor's sitting on one of the side chairs, a book in his hand. He closes it when he sees her emerge, and puts his hands on the arms like he's going to stand, but then thinks better of it and stays sitting. "There's coffee," he says, almost cautiously. "Your planet may be boring, but it does make the best."

"You took my shoes off," Bloom says in response, going to pour herself a cup. "I didn't think you'd ever care about me enough to take my shoes off."

"Don't flatter yourself; I didn't want you ruining the sheets," he responds after a pause.

So they aren't talking about her breakdown. Bloom can live with that. Though she can tell from his posture and their tones the implications are there already. Things are...softer, almost. Less snarky, more sincere. She doesn't know if she likes that or not, or if it will last. She realizes - almost absently - Baltor has never seen her so vulnerable before this. Not even on Tides when he pulled her half-drowned out of the water.

Bloom pours two cups and brings them over, setting them both on the table as she takes a seat on the couch. She doesn't know where to start; to apologize, to ignore, to threaten him to never reveal what she's said ever again (though that brings up the question of _who_ would he ever tell), or some other fourth option she's forgotten.

She opts for the fourth when she takes a drink of coffee and realizes how quickly it revitalizes her. Because she knows caffeine is a natural magic filter, and realizes why she stayed asleep for so long, and couldn't remember past Baltor holding her. "You put a sleeping spell on me."

"Hmm?" He looks over at her, but Bloom knows he heard.

"You put a sleeping spell on me. Don't try denying it, I can tell. Your magic...you have it back?"

"It's not as powerful as it once was. I don't know if it ever will be again. Part of it is because you eradicated the spells the Ancestresses had on me last year. The rest is due to the Nulis Lux spell." He looks her in the eyes. "I'm not sorry for hiding it, if that's what you're expecting me to say."

"I know you're not. Magic has always been important to you." Bloom leans back. "I thought because you and I were...well, I don't know _what_ we are, but I thought because of it I could replicate it with Ogron and the Wizards. I don't mean it like it's your fault, but...that's why I beat myself up so much. Why I still will."

He nods, slightly. "You and rest of your team."

"I have a different weight on my shoulders. You know that."

Baltor hums in agreement. "He was here before." he says after a long pause. "Ogron."

Bloom's head snaps up. "He was?"

"He was. I believe he was hoping to turn me against you, if I wasn't already."

"...You didn't work with him?"

"After the Trix, I've learned I work better alone." He smirks. "And he lacked vision. He didn't have a plan beyond trying to get into Tir Nan Og and destroying it."

"So Nabu was just a casualty, not a death that was premeditated." Bloom stares into her coffee. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse."

"You shouldn't focus on that," Baltor says. "You should focus on the fact that his lack of planning means he's running scared. Cornering him should be easy."

"Cornering him…where would he even go? Layla told Nabu's parents what happened. The whole dimension will be on the lookout for them now." Bloom turns back to Baltor, deciding to put this newfound civility to the test. "Where would you go?"

He thinks for a minute. "I would hide. Somewhere desolate, where few people would expect me to go."

She sighs. "I guess. I can read you more easily, though. I wouldn't even _know_ where Ogron would consider going." Her eyes go back to Baltor, and narrow in suspicion as she sees a look dawn on his face. "Baltor? What?"

"He took a book."

"What?"

"Ogron." He sets his drink down and goes over to the bookcases in the living room. "He took a book on the history of the magical dimension. I believe he thought it was a spell book. I let him take it; the set was useless to me when I started going through it. But with his lack of knowledge about the rest of the dimension…"

Bloom picks up on his idea. "That could be where he's gone." She stands up and walks over to him. "What volume's missing?"

Baltor carefully examines a row of books with dark brown covers. She can see based on the numerals the sixth edition is missing. He flips through a few pages of the fifth edition, returns it to the shelf, and does the same thing to the seventh. She then sees a dark smirk - one reminiscent of the days where they battled in Magix - spread across his face. "The creation and modern use of the planet Omega."

* * *

 _First and foremost, happy birthday to_ _ **xBloomStarx**_ _! Only 365 days left of being a teenager; use them well!_

 _Does Baltor genuinely want_ _ **to comfort Bloom**_ _, or is it_ _ **a ruse**_ _after his run in with Ogron? Who cares? It was_ _**fluffy as fuck**_ _. You're welcome._

 _I could tell you I didn't written this chapter months in advance because I was so excited, but_ _ **that would be a lie**_ _. I did. And I'm not sorry._

 _If you're a fan of the show_ Elementary _, and more so 'Joanlock,' there's a story called_ _ **Torchlight**_ _, by_ _ **writerfan2013**_ _, that was very influential when writing this chapter. They're very nice (and a member of Team Brits), so if you go read their story remember to_ _ **give them some love.**_ _You can find the fanfiction link under my favorites over in my profile, or just google it._

 _I also listened to a lot of painful but great music when writing this. If you wanna listen too and get a better feel of the chapter, go find_ _ **Run**_ _by_ _ **BTS**_ _and_ _ **Sleepless Night**_ _by_ _ **Nine Muses**_ _._ _As of this writing, they're pretty new songs, again_ _ **dating how far in advance I wrote this.**_


	10. Recruit

He gets a visit from Sibylla. He really needs to recover his magic enough to put a shield on his apartment. It seems every other week someone's found their way inside, and in a way it makes him appreciate that Ogron bothered to wait outside when he showed up.

Baltor's kept track of Bloom over the last few days, through the various news outlets reporting on her. He knows now that Ogron is gone - trapped in the Omega dimension with the other surviving members. He also knows everyone is now celebrating at the Fruity Music Bar. He debates going there for a short amount of time, to check on Bloom and see Roxy, but eventually decides the magic and adjusting to the time difference isn't worth it.

But he still gives up on going back to sleep and goes to start reading through the latest books he's found, and that's when he finds Sibylla standing in the middle of his living room, as though waiting for him to emerge. He knows who she is through legend, and the books he'd had in his possession back in Magix.

She nods at him. "Good evening."

It's three in the morning. "I have a door," he responds flatly, going past her and picking up the first book on his newest stack. "You might have noticed it."

"I apologize for the intrusion, and at such an awkward hour."

"And yet here you are," he sits on a chair and snaps his fingers. A coffee materializes on the table next to him. "Considering _that_ ," he gestures to the cup, "is the extent of my abilities at the moment, I can't exactly throw you out. So state your business, if you please."

A small smirk crosses her face, and to Baltor it seems out of place. "The stories about you are true, I see."

He doesn't respond, only lifts the drink to his lips.

Sibylla nods, but doesn't sit down. "Ogron made you aware to me during his stay."

"Which worked out _wonderfully_ , I must say."

Apparently this is the right thing to say, considering the smirk reappears on her lips. "Villains don't deserve second chances?"

Baltor's eyes narrow. "I think that depends on their threat level, and motivations. Not to mention who says they deserve second chances. Some people are more willing to give them compared to others."

"I see. What category do you believe I fall into?"

He studies her. "I'm not sure. By all accounts I've heard it would be the more willing, but as I said…"

"Ogron." Sibylla nods. "Yes, I know."

"He told you about me?"

"He did. Said I should be on my guard for the man who was the most feared wizard in the magic dimension a year and a half ago." She looks at the coffee cup, mildly amused. "Perhaps he over exaggerated."

Baltor rolls his eyes, feeling the obvious blow to his ego. "Have you come to mock me?"

"Not at all. Though I admit my primary reason was to see what _kind_ of state you're in." She pauses. "The rest of the Major Fairies and I are to meet with the Magix Council tomorrow, to discuss what part we will play in dimensional affairs, if any. By the rules of both the dimension and Earth, I _should_ let them know you didn't perish as previously thought."

A cold pang hits Baltor's chest, and he does his best to fight it off. He says nothing, but mentally starts calculating how long it will take to pack essentials, and how annoying he'd find the Canadian wilderness if he were to hide out there for a year.

"But," Baltor's eyes fell on the fairy as she continued. "As you said, I seem to be more willing than others to give second chances. I figured before I doomed you - again - I should see for myself what kind of threat you are."

Her look is thoughtful, and it seems odd to Baltor. He looks at her for a few minutes before taking another drink. "Have I given you an answer?"

"I'm not sure. You're powers are weak, that much I can tell. But magic is not the only test of power. We both know that."

He nods, barely.

"Humor me, Baltor. If your powers were restored fully, how long before you again started your quest to take over the world?"

Baltor thinks about this, honestly. Even with his magic slowly reemerging, he knows it could take years for it to come close to what it once was. The idea had been in the back of his mind of months; not even worth entertaining. In fact, Ogron's the last person to make him consider it, and even then the conversation has begun to fade from his mind.

"Unless you're going to lead me to believe you're a reformed man?"

He chuckles at this. "No. I don't have the energy so late in the night. And it would be idiotic to assume being holed up on this planet would tame me."

"Ah, yes, a horrible cage," Sibylla glances around, taking in the books and the television and the sleek black countertops in the kitchen and the lights of London outside the windows, which didn't dull despite the black sky. "It has a view, at least."

"Power intrigues me more than the London Eye."

"Yes," her eyes fall back to him. "If you don't mind me asking; how _did_ you survive?"

Baltor raises an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"I want to hear your story."

He doesn't answer immediately, looking at the book on his lap. "I didn't decide," he says finally. "Someone else did for me."

Sibylla laughs, and it sounds like wind blowing through the trees. "Bloom? Honestly?"

"What reason would I have to lie about it?" He shoots back. "She feared being the last of her kind. I would assume you understand."

"I do. Forgive me, it's just...the irony."

"I'm aware of it, trust me," Baltor says. He notes the look on her face. "What?"

"Is she the only one who knows?"

"And Roxy. No one besides them."

"I see… a very interesting choice. I wonder what the underlying reasons for that decision were."

Baltor sighs and leans his head back on the chair. "Please, save your breath. I haven't manipulated _or_ slept with Bloom. I would have preferred to die at the height of my power instead of without any on such a planet, but like any man, when left to my own devices, I don't possess the will to do it. She saved me for reasons much more selfish than romance."

Sibylla smiles. "I'm not the first one to question this, am I?"

"You, Roxy, Ogron, the annoying old bat across the hall; you're joining a long list."

"My apologies. Though I do believe she regards you as a friend."

He scoffs. "And what leads you to believe that?"

"I know she didn't return to the Winx's home the night Nabu passed."

Baltor raises his head to look her in the eye.

"I could sense conflicting emotions within her that night," Sibylla continues, pacing toward the bookshelf. "She was better when she returned."

For the first time in a while, he's at a loss of what to say. "I didn't do anything."

"I believe you did. Intentional or not. I was curious as to the reason behind those intentions." She thumbs a thick volume of gardening spells for the fifteenth century. "But now I see even _you_ aren't aware of what your feelings are. And far be it from me to tell you."

"You're suggesting I'm in love with her?"

"Of course not. I believe you're in love with your power, first and foremost. And I cannot tell you how to feel. Still...thank you for watching her."

He hates people thanking him; it makes him feel like a decent person, something he hasn't been in a long time. "So you came here to see if I was a power hungry maniac, and to warn me the Magix Council will soon be aware of my location?"

He sees her smile. "Yes and no. I was curious as to what kind of person you were, yes. Cautious as to Bloom's decisions to keep you alive. I am still not entirely sure she's correct, but...I am less skeptical."

"Thank you," he says, sarcastically.

"That being said; I don't plan to tell the Council."

Baltor's eyes widen. "You're not?"

"No. I don't feel it's necessary at this time." She takes a different book off the shelf. "How many of these do you own?"

"Earth spell books? Around sixty, and various other magical references."

"Morgana wanted to try and catalogue what was left of Earth's magic. There's a large book in the main palace that contains a record of every spell book produced on the planet, but it's been at least eighty years since someone compared it to what's left." Sibylla looks over her shoulder at him. "How detailed are _your_ records?"

Baltor understands where she's going with her comments. He snaps his fingers and a small journal floats from the table to Sibylla. She takes it and flips through, nodding approvingly. "Are you offering me a job? With magic?" He asks her. "Baltor, the big, bad wizard?"

"In a sense. It would keep you busy during your time here." Sibylla closes the book and hands it back to him. "And it might make your _prision_ a little more interesting. If you'd like."

He raises an eyebrow, studying her face. "Why?"

"I won't lie and say I trust you completely. It would be to keep an eye on you. And because I have faith."

Baltor genuinely laughs at that. "Faith I can be a good person?"

She smiles, just slightly. "Curious, isn't it?"

"Very." He stands from the chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You're correct in assuming I have nothing better to do with my time. I'll look through your lists. But if you're expecting me to be a chipper little helper, you'll be gravely disappointed."

"I'm sure I will be."

"Now is there anything else, or can I go back to sleep?"

"Of course; I apologize again for the late hour." Sibylla lifts her hand, magic falling from her fingertips, but after a moment her hand stills. "One last thing; we will be seeing the Winx tomorrow. Would you like me to tell Bloom?"

He considers this for a moment, thinking about the likely happy look she would give him and some sort of speech on the benefits of living a good life. He thinks about the ridiculous happy smile he'll likely see on her face, the one he's only seen when he watched her through a magic orb a year ago. And he thinks about Sibylla, and her apparent confidence in him.

And he thinks about Ogron, and what he said as he stood on the opposite side of his kitchen.

"No," Baltor says, turning and heading back toward the bedroom. "That's not necessary."

* * *

 _No,_ _ **not April Fools!**_ _In a shocking turn of events,_ _ **I remember this story exists**_ _._

 _Thus we_ _ **wrap Season 4**_ _. The next few chapters, like before, will cover a_ _ **buffer between Seasons 4 and 5**_ _._

 _I was about ⅓ into writing this chapter before I realized_ _ **it sucked**_ _. So I started over._ _ **Hopefully this works better**_ _._

 _I've been working on a_ _ **playlist**_ _for this story with some songs I think really fit the plot, and Sparxshipping as a couple. If it's something you'd be interested in,_ _ **let me know**_ _. If there's a high demand, I'll do my best to get it out on 8tracks or something before the next update (which with any luck will not take nearly as long)._


	11. Bridge

She knows there is no 'them.'

Just having to _think_ it annoys Bloom, because thinking it is ridiculous. Of course there isn't a them; there has never _been_ a _them_. And there won't be. The original reasoning still rings in her head; _keep Baltor alive as the only other person from Sparx_. And even though that wasn't true anymore, she couldn't just throw him aside. Not after a year of _not_ trying to take over the world and helping her. It had to count for something - a very little something, but a something, none the less. And that still didn't make the two of them a _them_. Because it's just too crazy to think about.

Something's different though. Bloom knows that much. A tiny little voice in the back of her head tells her she should worry about that.

She doesn't.

* * *

"Must we do this?"

Bloom glances over her shoulder, walking further out to the center of the roof. It's dark and surprisingly cool in London, the sky a shade of grey warranting an oncoming summer storm. "I need to see how far you've come with regaining your magic. You're sort of my responsibility, after all."

Baltor looks unamused at the comment, and goes over to the ledge, standing far enough away that he has to crane his neck to see the street, twelve floors down. "I hope you're ready to be severely disappointed, in that case."

"You can't be that rusty."

"It's not that I'm _rusty_ ," he makes air quotes around the word, and Bloom smirks. "It's that aside from quick bursts of magic, I can't do much else. Advanced spells are still mostly inaccessible to me."

"How advanced are we talking?"

He sighs and waves his hand, and a fireball appears. The color is a darker red, not the blue it used to possess. Bloom can feel the energy in the air; it's decent, but weaker than she's used to as far as Baltor's concerned. They lock eyes for a moment, and something in them must be surprised, because he gives a small huff of annoyance. The fireball dissipates.

"Spells are easier," he says, "but bursts of magic like that are...difficult to keep up for extended periods of time."

Bloom takes note of the tone of his voice and his eyes on the horizon and not her. "Wait a second, are you... _embarrassed_ because of that?"

She sees his eyes widen.

"You _are_! You totally are!"

He scoffs, and the dark look on his face makes the smile fall off hers. " _Thank you_ , for reminding me," his voice has an angry tone to it as he stalks past her to the other end of the roof. "As if you defeating me single handedly and taking my power wasn't degrading enough."

"Well gee, if I remember correctly you told me you didn't _want_ to die."

"And I also told you I didn't want your pity."

"It's not pity!"

"Then what would you refer to it as?"

Bloom opens her mouth, then closes it. "I...I don't know! Concern!"

"Concern for me? That's rich."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "I thought we were past this."

Baltor chuckles, turning back to face her. "And just what are we _past_ , Bloom? Attempting to kill each other? Being enemies? You expect me to believe you've forgotten all that?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten that! But do you think I'd come around so much if I still thought you were going to try and kill me?" she snaps.

"Then pray tell, _my dear_ , if we're not enemies and you don't use me as a personal history book, what are we?"

The sarcasm in his tone makes her snap. Before she can think about it she throws out her hand and sends a fireball towards him. Standing on the edge of a twelve-story building. With limited magic.

Her eyes widen and she starts to yell, but he's already half-facing her. Bloom watches Baltor's eyes widen, and he steps to the side and throws his hand out.

The fireball changes course, slowing and going right into his hand. Baltor's fist closes around it, and the magic dissipates. Bloom feels it leave her proximity, and knows it means Baltor's absorbed it. A few stray ashes fall to the ground.

They stare at each other for a few seconds. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Bloom breaks first, swallowing and forcing her posture to go back to relaxed from a battle stance. "I...um...I didn't know you could still do that."

"...Yes. Well that makes two of us." Baltor's outstretched arm slowly falls back to his side.

"You absorbed it?"

"Yes."

"Do you -"

"Yes," he says again before she can finish. "I feel it. It's stronger magic than I have."

Her mouth closes. "Your magic is red."

Baltor raises an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"Your magic. When we used to, or, when we fought before, it was blue. It's red now. It's...interesting."

She watches him exhale. "Your fairy dust erased the Ancestresses dark magic in me. That included their power, which I often relied on. All I have left is light magic; Earth provides little of the other kind on account of its lack of wizards and witches. And more often than not I draw from the light magic...improperly."

"Light magic. How awful for you," she says lightly, testing the waters.

He smirks, just slightly. It's embarrassing for him to admit this, she realizes. "I don't think relying on that will turn you into a model citizen, sadly." Bloom continues, carefully.

"Thank God."

She releases something between a huff and a laugh. "Y'know, I'm actually not horrible at drawing from dark magic. I studied at Cloud Tower for a few days back in my second year. Griffin was actually impressed by me."

He raises an eyebrow at this. "You? Dark magic?"

"Yeah. Word had gotten out by the time you showed up, and it didn't go over well with some parents. They thought I was aligned with you."

"Hmm," he says. "Well, it appears they weren't _completely_ wrong."

Bloom nods a little, and glances out on the skyline. She can see rain starting to fall on the other side of the city. "Look, I -"

He cuts her off again. "Don't apologize. Please."

She glances back at him, wrapping her jacket more tightly around herself. The wind is picking up, making it colder. "Do you still think we're enemies? A year later?"

Baltor takes a deep breath and looks her in the eye. They never used to do that, but now it seems like most of their conversations involve eye contact, like their first encounters. "No. But I wouldn't exactly call us friends, either."

"...Do we label ourselves then?"

"Do we need to?" he shoots back.

Bloom thinks about it for a minute. "I guess not. Do you want to label us?"

"No. I've always been of the belief labels make things too complicated too quickly."

"Former enemies standing together on a roof in London debating their status and not shooting magic fireballs at each other...aren't we already complicated enough?"

He smirks at that. "Exactly why it shouldn't be made more complicated."

Before she can say anything, her phone buzzes in her pocket. She reaches for it and looks at the screen. "It's Stella. She needs my help getting the rest of our boxes out of the apartment in Gardenia."

Baltor nods. "By all means."

She feels something wet touch her head, and she runs a hand through her hair. Another shiver wracks her. "Considering the rain's starting, it's a good idea."

"Bloom."

"Yeah?"

He gives her a pointed look, and she narrows her eyes. "What are…" she starts, but she feels a raindrop hit her hand. Except it seems far too light to be a raindrop.

She looks down at her hand, and sees a small fleck of white where she expected the drop to be.

Bloom's eyes widen, and when she feels more she looks up. Beyond the roof sees rain starting to fall heavily over the city, but where they are it isn't there. Instead, it's turned into snow. A small gasp escapes her lips, and her eyes dart around the roof before they land back on Baltor.

He smirking at her.

"...You're doing this?" she asks, and kicks herself because her voice sounds awestruck.

"Well you've been to the Omega dimension; obviously you've seen snow."

"Well yeah, but," Bloom trails off and walks over to the ledge. She sticks her hand over the edge and feels raindrops hit her hand. She draws it back, and the light feeling of snow hitting it takes its place. She exhales and watches a cloud of breath form, and disappear and it goes beyond the roof. "It's like eighty degrees, in July. And you're making it snow on a roof!" She turns back to him. "How are you doing this?"

"Bloom, Bloom," he chides her, but there's a light tone to his voice. "I told you my magic isn't much, but it can still do _some_ things."

She grins before she can help herself. "Someone's going to see this," she says, looking down at the snow starting to gather on the concrete. "How do you explain why it's raining everywhere except the roof of your building?"

"The storm probably isn't even reaching Croydon. But if it makes you feel better." His smirk widens, and he snaps his fingers. The snow in the air dissipates, and rain starts falling over them. Bloom yelps at the sudden blast of humidity that comes over her.

"Hey!"

"You need to leave. And _I_ would prefer to go back to studying my newly acquired books." Baltor walks past her towards the door that they used to get to the roof. Snow still crunches under his feet.

She has a quipp ready, but she doesn't say it. Instead she just smirks at him and rattles off the teleportation spell in her head. After she says the last word she blinks, and she's standing in the lobby of the now defunct Love & Pet, her wet boots leaving water on the floor.

Maybe there is a 'them' after all.

* * *

 _Would you like some_ _ **crackers**_ _with this_ _ **cheese**_ _?_

 _If I cared about being super accurate, I would tell you how far_ _ **Croydon**_ _is from_ _ **Westminster**_ _. But_ _ **I don't**_ _care, so I_ _ **won't**_ _._


	12. Worry

He knows this can't last.

Baltor prides himself on few things; one of them has always been his ability to read people. Figuring out weaknesses and flaws had been second nature to him, since before he became a pawn of the Ancestral Witches. They simply gave him new ways to exploit said weaknesses. It was appreciated at the time, before they screwed him over.

He sees the change in Bloom. It's slow, but it's there nonetheless. She's less leery of him; she comes around more often, so much so that the old bat downstairs asks him if they're dating. He scoffs at her and denies it, but she smirks like he's lying to her (or himself) and she knows it, and rather than say anything more lets it slide. Something about that look on her face makes him uneasy, and he vaguely wonders if it's how _he_ used to make people feel.

It's awful, he decides, and Baltor makes it a point to ignore her most of the time after the encounter.

It doesn't change the fact that Bloom is still around.

Baltor's always thought of himself and Bloom as two opposing forces, fighting for control since the day they saw each other. That's what their relationship had been during the year they fought, a constant back and forth that ended with her in control. He's trying to regain some of that control; through his magic and working for Tir Nan Og, but he still feels it slipping between his fingers.

It's slipping because he...likes having her around. He likes…

He's not ready to finish _that_ thought.

There are many reasons why, but the main one is pride. Admitting he feels _anything_ other than animosity towards Bloom also feel like giving up. He remembers the first time he had a conversation with her, saw her face to face after pulling her lifeless body out of the sea. She was half-delirious with water still in her lungs, and he said his name and Bloom's eyes had shown him unfiltered fear. He hadn't seen it since that day - she'd kept her emotions in check and replaced it with rage - but Baltor _remembers_ that look in her eyes. It made him feel powerful. As he went on he relished it when others had that same fear in their eyes.

A dark part of him wants to see it in Bloom's eyes again.

But yet, another part of him doesn't want to see it, and _that_ terrifies him even more.

Many things over the years damaged his pride, but nothing would do it more than becoming a 'Forbidden Lovers' cliché.

* * *

"Did you ever fight Erendor?" Bloom asks when she stops by to return the book Ogron took from his apartment.

Baltor's head snaps up from his cup of tea. "What?"

"Erendor. The King of Eraklyon?"

Her voice is nonchalant, but Baltor can tell from the way Bloom doesn't meet his eyes she's fishing for information. "Not in person, no."

"Oh," she says, filling in the silence between them. On the other side of the kitchen counter, she snaps her fingers. Another cup drifts from his shelf and lands in front of her. "I had just...heard things."

He sighs, and hands the teapot over to her. "Havram?" he asks because there's no point talking around the issue.

She blushes slightly. "Yeah."

Baltor remembers very little about Havram; he had only visited once before it was destroyed. But he knows the story from the Ancestresses, and Erendor's promise to stay out of Sparx's destruction to keep his own planet safe. "I had very little to do with him. My battles focused on Faragonda and the rest of your family."

"But you knew about him?"

"His alliance with your father? Yes," he lifts his drink to his lips. "Beyond that, though, I didn't pay much attention."

"...That's fair."

Her eyes are on the cup as she dunks the tea bag in, slowly changing the water color. Her fingers tap against the counter in a steady rhythm. Baltor rolls his eyes. "What?"

Bloom looks up at him, far too quickly for her to be distracted. "Huh?"

"What else?"

She opens her mouth, just slightly, then closes it and opens it again. "It just made me realize there's a lot about Sparx I don't know. About the battles you were in."

The openness of her answer catches him off guard. "...It isn't as though that changes what happened. Or what I did."

"I know. But it was the Ancestresses more than you. You were just…"

"Their pawn?" he fills in wryly, and she gives a small smile. He stares at it for a few seconds before looking away. "It wasn't a pleasant or cinematic battle. It was strategy, months of unraveling Sparx's allies and political structure. People died. It's better to forget it."

"Maybe it should be forgotten," Bloom says, "but it's still the history of my planet. I'm curious about it.

"And," Baltor's gaze turns back to her as she continues. "You know I don't blame you for it, right?"

The cup would've shattered to the floor had he been holding it. "You should blame me," he finally says, but his voice is uneven and clears his throat before continuing. "I was a part of it, no matter how minimal. My status now doesn't change that."

She doesn't say anything to that, and a cold feeling settles in Baltor's chest when he glances at her face. "You said you had a class today?"

Bloom glances at the clock on the kitchen wall. "Oh my gosh! I completely forgot, and it's...darn it," she extends a finger, and the wisps of heat rising from her coffee cease. Bloom drinks it quickly and stands up. "I feel like all I do is drink and leave you…"

"Yet I always manage," though he kicks himself, he feels a small smirk go across his face. "Thank you for the weekly checkup."

She smiles, and disappears in a clap of air.

Baltor's lips fall when she's gone.

* * *

She has no fear left for him. He hates it, and when a small voice in his head says he _shouldn't_ , he just hates more.

Years of rotting in the Omega dimension, his time trying to rule the universe - all of that plotting shattered by the daughter of his sworn enemies.

He knows the longer he stays here, the more acceptable that idea will become.

There are things Baltor has done he isn't proud of. Many of those things are not common knowledge, and remain buried with the dead. There are the things that, should Bloom ever discover, would likely lead her to come to London and kill him on the spot. Those secrets won't stay buried forever; he knows that. If his powers were back to full strength he would worry less, because it would be easier to relocate without Bloom discovering him. But they aren't, which leaves him as a mostly mortal man with his last tie to the magic dimension being the same girl he…

God, he's weak.

The scales are tipping; he feels it. Their emotions are changing. Baltor won't even admit it to himself, but he is terrified of where they will lead, because he has a feeling he knows where Bloom's are going. It's a waiting game to see who cracks first.

Baltor doesn't want to lose.

* * *

 _The song on repeat while writing this chapter is_ _ **Run Away With Me,**_ _by_ _ **Carly Rae Jepsen**_ _._

 _Originally, this chapter relied a lot more on the_ _ **second Winx Club movie**_ _, but I kept putting off watching it all the way through, so I finally gave up and_ _ **changed it**_ _._

 _Since we've mentioned both movies, you're probably wondering about_ _ **movie three: Mystery of the Abyss**_ _. Sadly,_ _ **that won't be included**_ _in this story. I would lie to you and say it's because I don't have time or didn't plan it, but I value the honesty between us, so I'm going to tell you it's because_ _ **Mystery of the Abyss just sucks**_ _._

 _Also, remember that time I said_ _ **I wasn't changing canon**_ _?_ _ **I lied**_ _; there will be slight modifications. Nothing too groundbreaking, but they'll be there._


	13. Evaluate

She gives an 'interview.'

The last few days on Earth have been a whirlwind of concerts and oil spills and battles, leaving Bloom feeling sore as she walks up and down the beach with a trash picker and a plastic bag. The turnout of people to help clean up has been decent so far, but she knows the turnaround time to get it anywhere close to 'back to normal' will be months.

Or until they can figure out how to stop Layla's insane cousin.

"Hey Bloom!" a voice jolts her out of her thoughts, and she turns around to see Roxy heading towards her, a brunette man with a notepad in tow who regards the beach with a slight disdain. "If you want to take a break, this is Mister…"

"Free," the man behind her supplies.

"Mr. Free, from the BBC. He wanted to ask you some questions about the beach cleanup and what sort of thing caused it."

Bloom wipes the sweat from her brow and straightens up. She's about to ask Roxy why she let a reporter around when they were planning on a press conference later, but she feels a ripple of magic, and watches the male figure change. "Oh," she says.

"My apologies for bombarding you," Baltor nods at her, a small smirk on his face. "I won't take too much of your time, I promise."

"Is he always so pretentious?" Roxy asks, and Bloom smirks while he glares at her. "There's enough people here that you don't have to bother with some cover story about being a reporter."

"Then Roxy, you're not nearly as paranoid as I am."

"I've got it," Bloom says to the other girl. "Will you check to see if anyone needs another water bottle? It's so hot out here."

"Roger that," she says, squeezes Baltor's shoulder, and heads back in the direction of the Frutti Music Bar, a few hundred feet from where they are

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you on this continent. Or for a few weeks with how all this is going." The two start a slow pace up the beach, Bloom stopping occasionally to grab a piece of trash.

"I suppose I miss California," he says, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "You look…"

"Yeah, no kidding," she sighs. "Come to check up on me? Make sure I was alright?"

He chuckles, and something about it makes anxiety settle in Bloom's chest. "A secondary benefit. News outlets are already reporting on this; and every major disaster seems to be blamed on magic these days." he trails off as a group of young girls go by, laughing. "There were reports you faced - along with sea monsters and exploding oil rigs - three questionable looking magic wielders without wings."

 _The Trix_ , Bloom thinks, and suddenly his presence here makes sense. Something ripples through her chest, but she doesn't dwell on the feeling too long (out of desire to push on or fear she doesn't know). "Yes. Three witches. Icy, Darcy, and Stormy."

"Interesting names."

"Don't tell them that. They've escaped one of the most secure rehabilitation facilities twice now...it wouldn't take much for them to freeze you solid and break you apart in a tornado." Bloom trails off and looks over at him. "Worried?"

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't. Though...concerned seems to fit better," Baltor steps in time with her, despite the terrain of the sand. "I find it unlikely they'll track me down. They don't even believe I'm alive...do they?"

"Not to my knowledge," Bloom says. "Are you calling me untrustworthy?"

He chuckles. "No. Those three are resourceful. You know that as well as I do. I needed to know where I stood."

"...Right. Of course." Bloom focuses on picking up a plastic drink holder with her stick. "Well, you'll be relieved to know you're not even near their field of vision. You should be perfectly safe so long as you stick to Earth. Which you _should_ be doing, anyway."

"Hmm...but it seems they _have_ caused some damage here." Baltor steps around a broken wine bottle sticking out of the sand. He waves his hand and when she looks back it's repaired, the glass shards out of harm's way. "And it's being said they didn't act alone."

She shrugs. "So?"

"So, you may as well ask me about the mystery fourth contender while I'm here."

"I thought you didn't like me doing that."

"So that means you're never going to ask me?"

Bloom rolls her eyes, and finally stops walking. She looks out to the ocean, a dull grey color from the garbage and overcast. She feels Baltor's gaze, but doesn't look back to see if he's looking at her or the sea. "You imprisoned Queen Ligea when you took over Tides, right?"

"I did."

"Come into contact with her children?"

"No," Baltor says after a moment. "They fled with King Neptune after the initial attacks and stayed hidden until well after I left. Not to say I wasn't looking; his powers have always been considered impressive. Ligea escaped not long after I captured her," his voice carries sarcasm. "I wonder who I have to blame for that."

She smiles, just slightly. "Sorry."

"Doubtful. But their children are involved in this?"

"The oldest one - Tritannus. Didn't take too kindly to his brother being the favorite. Got thrown in jail for trying to assassinate him, broke out with the Trix." Bloom pauses. "A little familiar, isn't it?"

Baltor doesn't say anything, but she hears him chuckle faintly. "Those three are repetitive, at least."

"Are any of your old hideouts on Tides still standing?"

"It's unlikely - they were more towards the Omega portal…"

"Which got a _heavy_ upgrade after you destroyed it."

He looks pleased at the fact. "I can give you a few places, but other than that, you'd have better luck watching him through a pair of binoculars on that pillar I pulled out of the sea."

Bloom shivers involuntarily, thinking of that day - it was almost the same weather here. "You could've made the ocean warmer," she mutters, almost as an afterthought of the memories.

She glances back to see a look of surprise on his face. "...I'm surprised you remember any of it."

"I remember all of it."

They're silent for a few moments, staring at each other. Bloom feels her heartbeat quicken, and wonders what that means (which is a lie - she has an idea of what it means but she pushes it back down in her mind). "I -" she begins, and takes a breath. "I thought after I got Sparx back that would be it. The end of all the fighting and the wars I dealt with my first few years in the dimension. But they keep going, every time I think it's going to end. And it's invading home - the home I grew up in where I never worried things wouldn't be okay. I...I hate it."

"Am I one of those invaders?" he asks, not accusingly but as though he wanted to know where he stood.

Bloom thinks for a minute. "Sort of? I don't count you as a bad thing, if that makes sense. You've just sort of bled into being a part of it - my parents live in a house off of Harper Street, my favorite coffee shop is on the PCH, and you live on the second floor of a building on A204, and I always remember because it's a stupid name for a street."

"Spoken like a true American," he says, but his face looks amused. "You don't think of me as a threat anymore, hmm?"

"Should I?" she asks, because in all honesty she doesn't anymore, and when she stops to think about it maybe that's a bad thing.

Baltor looks surprised by the question and doesn't answer her immediately. She watches him think like she had before, but before he says anything she hears Flora yell from somewhere down the beach; "Hey Mike!"

They both turn their heads to see Roxy coming towards them again, Mike with her this time instead. She gives a quick, apologetic grin.

"It appears I had little time to be of use," Baltor says, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

"I'm sure you're devastated," she shoots back, smirking at him.

He narrows his eyes at her and straightens up. "Well," he says, slipping back into his alias. "I believe that is more than enough information for my boss to get off my ass. I hope I didn't take up too much of your time?"

"Not at all. Please let me know if you need anything else." she says. "We want the public to be well informed."

Baltor nods. "I'll be in touch," he says, and holds a hand out. Bloom blinks and then slides the plastic bag up her arm and shakes it. She feels Dragon Fire flow from one body to the other, and when she lets go it feels like a light flips off.

 _His magic is getting stronger_.

"Mr. Free," Roxy calls as they get within hearing distance. "There are a few reporters setting up for a press conference in a few hours, if you'd like me to direct you?"

Baltor responds to her, and Bloom turns her attention to her father. "Hi Dad," she kisses his cheek. "Come to help with the cleanup?"

"That, check up on you, and start getting eyewitness accounts for the oil rig fire."

Bloom watches with wide eyes as he turns his gaze to Baltor. "Hope you're not giving my daughter too much trouble." His voice is friendly, but Bloom knows the underlying protectiveness in his eyes. "I've run off more than one reporter."

To her relief, Baltor chuckles. "Sir, if I was, I'm sure she'd have no trouble turning me into a charcoal briquette."

Mike laughs. "Think that myself every day with her temper."

"She seems perfectly well-mannered to me."

"You haven't seen her in the mornings without coffee."

Bloom's cheeks turn red and she hits Mike's arm. " _Dad_!"

She glances back at Baltor, and sees mischief shining in his eyes. "Take care, sir." He nods at Mike, and walks off with Roxy back towards the Fruitti Music Bar.

"He seems nicer than the run of the mill guys I saw setting up." he says to Bloom when they're far enough away.

The fact that someone close to her is complimenting Baltor's personality is almost jarring, and she looks back towards him. "...Yeah. Guess so."

"Where's he from?"

"BBC, I think."

Her father nods. "Keep that guy around. Seems pleasant."

"I-I'm not too sure if I get a say, but I'll keep it in mind." Bloom shakes her head to clear it, and smiles at Mike. "So...oil rig eyewitnesses?"

* * *

 _Baltor may have stolen his name from British YouTuber_ _ **Gavin Free**_ _._

 _How did the Trix_ _ **escape**_ _? Who knows; Nick_ _ **didn't say**_ _, so_ _ **why should I**_ _?_

 _Thus we enter_ _ **Season 5**_ _. There will be_ _ **lots of fun stuff**_ _to look forward to in this, like_ _ **fireworks**_ _, better background development for Daphne, and uh, I dunno_ _ **some people may finally get smooched**_ _._

 _Speaking of Season 5, remember I value this_ _ **honesty**_ _we have, so I can_ honestly _tell you_ _ **Season 5 is the worst season of Winx Club ever**_ _. Like, I have an immense dislike for it and I couldn't make it all the way through. So we're not going to focus on very many plot points that occur during it, and instead shift said focus_ _ **to Bloom and Baltor.**_ _**You're welcome.**_

 _I'd also like to take this opportunity to say I really appreciate everyone who has favorited or watched this story;_ _**you mean a lot**_ _. And if you take time to leave reviews on top of that, you're_ _ **super awesome**_ _._


	14. Reevaluate

He knows Sky has lost his memory.

Baltor isn't looking for the information when he finds out. Not that he isn't interested - old habits die hard, and staying up to date on the status of royals had been a large factor of his life for many years. It was only natural, or so he told himself. It didn't have to do with anything else. Or anyone.

Oddly enough, Sibylla is the one to bring it up when he's dropping off spellbooks he's found from Edinburg.

"You mean he's lost all of it? Battles and his royal training and time at Red Fountain?"

"Mostly," she says. "I'm not quite sure how or why it's happened, but it is unfortunate nonetheless. If not for Eraklyon, then for Bloom."

"I would switch those," Baltor says, almost absently, then looks back at her. "How did you find this out?"

"I've been keeping in contact with the Magix Council and Ms. Faragonda. They're impressed with the magic being recovered." She offers a small smile, which Baltor doesn't return. "Quite a turn of events though."

He recognizes the tone in her voice, and groans. "Sibylla, honestly."

She looks almost embarrassed. "I did not mean - "

"You _did_ mean, we both know that." He leans back against the wall of the cave and glares at her. "Why is it that, no matter how much I insist I haven't done anything with Bloom, you assume the opposite?"

Her face turns to an expression Baltor - surprisingly - can't decipher. "I would like to ask you a question."

Baltor raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

"Why do you refuse to believe that you could be happy _without_ first ruling the free world?"

He would be lying if he said he expected the question. "...Did you not say I was in love with my power first and foremost?"

"I did believe that, yes. Lately though, it seems my opinions are changing." She looks down at the books Baltor brought, almost thoughtfully. "My powers grant me many visions of what the future holds. Some of them come true, others don't. But a constant I have seen as of late is you, and your weakening desire to obtain such power."

"Because of Bloom?" He says, clearly unconvinced.

"There are some because you've died," she shoots back wryly. "But yes, mostly Bloom."

Something about that makes his chest feel strange, but he pushes it down. "I appreciate the sentiment," he says, "but I'm not sure such ideas can become reality."

"What makes you say that?"

He hesitates. "There are things I've done in my life. Things that - if Bloom ever found out - would drop me from whatever good graces she has me in now. I'm not proud of them, but I would never expect her to overlook them simply because of what I am now."

Sibylla raises an eyebrow, obviously intrigued. "Surely it can't be worse than what you have already done."

"It just might be to her." Baltor pauses. "Do your powers only allow you to speak in riddles regarding my future?"

"I would hate to accidentally influence you. But please, all I ask is you consider the idea that the girl may think of you as more than a former enemy, and that you could be happy without all of your powers."

"If I say I will, will you leave the subject alone?"

"Yes."

"Then yes," Baltor straightens up. "Am I free to go?"

"Of course," Sibylla's tone changes as though the last few minutes never occurred. "When you get a chance, there's a collection of spells on agriculture magic. Their last known location was around Yamato, though I believe the city name has changed."

"I'll look into it," Baltor says, and heads for the cave entrance.

* * *

Sibylla's words shook him, and that annoyed Baltor to no end. Knowing other's weaknesses was one thing, but people knowing _his_ created a different game entirely. It reminds him of his own weakness as he walks down Kensington High Street, pulling his jacket tighter around him as the September cold starts to set in the air. He hates it. It's so unlike him -

 _But the person you_ were _is nothing more than a ghost story now_ , a voice in the back of his head says.

He considers the thought as he enters his building, but doesn't have long to dwell on it before he hears the Old Bat yelling at him from down the hall. "You plan to keep your girl in the cold all afternoon?"

Baltor looks over at her, doing little to hide his distaste. "Forget your medicine today, Ms. Hayes?" He asks in an overly-sugared tone.

"Don't give me that shit, you," she responds, that knowing smirk he hates crossing her face. "Your girlfriend's upstairs."

His feet halt, and reaching his Dragon Fire out he senses her upstairs. Baltor glances back at the woman, sighs, and heads for the stairs without another word to her.

Bloom leans against the wall opposite his door, books under her arm and her phone in her other hand. She's too engrossed in whatever she's looking at to notice him coming up the stairs, which gives Baltor the opportunity to look her over while her guard is down. A slight shake to her hand tells him she hasn't been sleeping well. Her clothes are more formal than what she usually wears from Alfea, her makeup is more precise (though it does little to hide the redness in her eyes that backs up his theory she's lost sleep).

It all points to the idea she's worried over Sky - trying to look as proper as she can in case he comes around or needs her assistance in a pinch (it also explains the color of her shirt - eavesdropping on her from Cloud Tower years ago, Sky had told her he loved the color on her). That being said, she doesn't seem anxious or worried. Just tired, maybe even a little annoyed when her eyes narrow at something on her phone screen.

He clears his throat, and she snaps her head up. "Don't you have classes?" he asks her, digging around his pocket for the key.

"Afternoon one got cancelled, and Roxy gave me these," she motions to the books under her arm. "They're about Earth - mostly fable stories on magic, but I thought maybe you'd want them."

"You didn't need to do that." It's true. Bloom still doesn't know he's gathering books for Sibylla as well as himself, making the gesture that much more personal.

"Yeah well, I needed a break from school and the people there."

Baltor turns to the door to put the key in, mostly so she can't see his expression. "Trouble in magical paradise?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.

"To put it mildly. It's nothing, just...reason to start thinking."

It's not the answer he's expecting, and something about it makes a bit of hope flicker in his chest. He takes a deep breath and wills it back down, holding the door open for Bloom to step inside. "Where have you been all afternoon?" she asks, and he can hear the curiosity in her voice.

"Chasing down an antique book I'm fairly certain doesn't exist," he says it partially out of habit and partially because he doesn't want her to have to keep another secret regarding him. "Overall an uneventful day."

"Sorry to hear…" she trails off and stops walking halfway between where the hallway opens up and the living room. "What?" Bloom asks, and Baltor realizes he's staring at her.

That strange feeling is back, and before he can push it down he opens his mouth. "Do you want a key to the flat?"

Bloom almost drops the books; Baltor sees her fingers start to go limp before she catches herself. Her cheeks are already starting to go pink. "W-What?"

"You're here almost every week. It'd be easier than waiting around in the hallway or wasting magic picking the lock." He keeps his tone neutral and finally looks away from her, going into the kitchen to get a glass of scotch he now feels like he needs. "Just a suggestion if you want."

He opens the cupboard and looks back at her. Her expression has turned to one of thoughtfulness. "Is that...too personal?" she finally asks.

"Would I suggest it if I thought it was?"

There's a pause that's almost too long, and Bloom breaks it before he does. "Alright. If you _really_ don't mind, I'd like one."

In response, Baltor snaps his fingers. He hears Bloom's sharp inhale and a soft _plink_ as a magic-copied version of his key drops on the counter next to her. "Now then," he turns around to face her, the bottle in his hand and a smirk on his face. "Should I be pouring you a glass before your return to Alfea, considering your desire for a break?"

Bloom smiles back at that. "Please."

* * *

 _Will Baltor's 'evil thing he isn't proud of' stay a secret?_ _ **Psh, no**_ _. I_ _ **gotta lay the foreshadowing**_ _in here somewhere, kids._

 _ **Yamato**_ _was a rice farming colony in Japan. It died out long ago to make way for the city of_ _ **Sakurai**_ _. (Also did I find this city from_ _ **History of Japan**_ _? Maybe.)_

 _I picture Sibylla as_ _ **part friend, part mentor**_ _for Baltor. Time will tell how accurate that statement is._


	15. Dance

She invites him to Sparx.

Bloom wishes she'd had a camera to capture the look of surprise and horror that crosses his face. "Why in Magix's name," he says when he regains his composure and Bloom stops giggling, "would I go back there?"

"Not as _you_ ," she says as if it were obvious. "You'd need disguise spells - which I can totally help with. But my parents are officially reopening the palace to the public. It's been closed -"

"Since the first attacks," Baltor finishes. He looks grim. "You want me to come?"

"Yes. If you want to."

"Will I be intruding on a date of some kind?" he asks.

She feels her heart skip a beat and forces her face to stay neutral. "He's busy."

"Ah."

She's surprised when he agrees with little argument after that. The opening is on the Friday before Christmas, (even though Christmas doesn't matter much in the magical dimension, but it means she can spend Christmas in Gardenia with her other parents), and Bloom is the only one of the Winx that doesn't have class Friday afternoon, which means she can go with Baltor and not worry about them seeing her with another man and ask questions. Not that it would be a big deal for her, but because she _knew_ they would make a big deal out of it.

Something in the back of her mind says she should come up with a rational explanation as to why she asked Baltor to come with her, but Bloom decides the fact that Sparx was his home planet too is sufficient. Maybe it wouldn't have been back when she first let him live, but so much has changed in that time.

Maybe too much.

Nevertheless, she shows up at his door on the day of, because if anyone on Sparx or otherwise picks up on the dark Dragon Fire Baltor still possesses, they're both in trouble. She knocks to be polite, and he answers in the same disguise spell he'd used at the beach.

"You're in a suit," she smiles at him as she steps inside, grateful that unlike the hallway, the apartment is warm.

"And you're in jeans," he shoots back, obviously surprised.

"My makeup and hair is done; I didn't want that woman downstairs giving you grief if I showed up in a ball gown," Bloom says, taking her gloves off and smoothing her bangs back behind her ear. "I know you said you don't like her, but she seems really nice."

"Then you've been deceived," Baltor closes the door and turns to face her. "Do you think the spell is powerful enough?"

Bloom reaches out with her magic, and though _feels_ seems like the wrong phrase, it's what she can best describe it is. The magic isn't deep, but it feels powerful even to her own flame. "I can add a few layers of magic to it if you want."

"If you could," he says without any embarrassment. Bloom raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything else, instead casting her own version of the disguise spell. A ball of red magic flares between her hands, and after a few moment it flies out and surrounded Baltor. He catches it easily and lets it dissolve around him. Bloom feels the spell around him thicken.

"I've never seen you this nervous," she says, twisting her finger in a different spell to put her dress on.

"I can't believe I agreed to it. The dimension is one place to go, but almost everyone on Sparx has seen my face. If the spell fails, I've essentially stepped into my own suicide."

"You'll be fine. Please, I hate how boring events like these are. Help me Obi-Wan," she smirks.

"The fact I'm aware of that reference is painful to my ego," he looks back and Bloom sees him stop short as he takes in her new attire.

Her cheeks pale. "Is it too much?" she glances down at the full dark blue skirt, the gold detailing starting from the thin straps holding the dress on her shoulders. "You've spent more time at the palace than I have, and if this is somehow inappropriate -"

Baltor holds up a hand. "You took me by surprise. It's fine." He pauses for a moment, and Bloom sees the corner of his lips quirk, just slightly. "You look lovely."

She smiles.

* * *

Baltor visibly relaxes when they arrive, realizing there are so many people and so much magic he easily fades into the background. Bloom loses him for a while, considering they enter separately as to not draw attention. She's already seen her parents and made small talk with officials and nobles she doesn't know the names of before she finds him, standing at one end of the ballroom looking at a picture she's seen on the wall for ages, of the Great Dragon surrounded by fire in a burning forest.

She goes to stand next to him, just brushing his hand with hers so she doesn't surprise him. He looks over at him just with her eyes, but he doesn't drop the spell for her. "How does it feel being back?" she asks, making it appear like she's making small talk to anyone who passes by.

"Strange." Even his voice has changed; it's a higher pitch, less smooth and more thin. "After so long, I assumed if I ever stood here again, it would be in the middle of a war. To see a party, and people enjoying themselves…" he trails off, and Bloom glances over at him. His face is thoughtful.

"Tell me about the picture," Bloom says, because she feels like she needs more to connect this different man and different voice to the person she's known the last few years.

Baltor raises his eyebrows. "Your great-grandparents commissioned it, if I remember correctly. From a painter on Earth."

"Someone famous?"

"Leonardo DaVinci."

Bloom's eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

Even with the disguise spell, Baltor's smirk still comes through as his. Her eyes narrow when she realizes he's playing with her and she hits his shoulder. "You jerk!"

He laughs. "I have no idea where the painter is from or when it was done. It _has_ been here for a while though; since I first set foot in the palace. And I know it's a favorite."

She purses her lips, looking at it for details she may have missed before that would help her appreciate it more as a family heirloom. As she does, Baltor steps to the side, putting distance between them. "You have company," he says, quietly enough for only her to hear.

"My dear Bloom."

Her eyes go wide, and she turns to the side as the man approaches. Regal attire, thinning brown hair, and a smile she doesn't entirley trust even after all these years. She gives a curtsey. "King Erendor. What a wonderful surprise; my father didn't tell me you were coming."

"He asked me at the last moment," Sky's father bows back to her, but Bloom feels as though its only for formality's sake. "A way to show both our people Sparx and Eraklyon are allies again. Of course there's ground to cover," she sees something dark flash across his eyes, and it's unsurprising considering the whispers she's heard from others. "But I'm confident in our abilities."

Bloom nods, not knowing much else to say. As his gaze continues to bear down on her, she finally bites the bullet. "How's Sky?"

"I was going to ask you the same question. Have you not seen him much since his return to Red Fountain?"

She _knows_ his tone of voice is meant to strike a nerve, and it takes a lot to keep her smile up. "Of course. But we both have our own classes and such. I don't want to push him. And he has the rest of the Winx as well, the Specialists, teachers...and Diaspro."

"Of course. She's not slacking off now, is she?" He says it almost as a joke, but all Bloom feels is her knuckles tightening on her skirt.

"No. But I don't speak with her much..." Erendor nods at her, and Bloom bites her lip. "Your Majesty, if I may ask -"

"Why I asked her to assist our family?" The smile he gives her is trying to be friendly. "Looking at my previous banishment of the young woman, I felt I was too harsh on her."

"She spelled Sky against his will and convinced half of Isis' council we were aligned with the Baltor," Bloom says before she can stop herself.

"Of course I do not condone her previous actions. But Diaspro has made great strides since then, both magically and personally. She's apologized for her behavior, and I believe in second chances, don't you?"

"I -"

"And not to mention she _was_ trained to rule Eraklyon one day; combined with growing up with Sky, she was simply the best candidate. Unless you'd like to object?" he raises an eyebrow and finally falls silent, and Bloom knows she's just been pushed into a corner on the particular issue. She feels her cheeks starting to darken in embarrassment.

"My apologies," Bloom jerks her head in surprise at the voice before her brain connects it's Baltor next to her. He places a hand on her shoulder. "I hate to interrupt, but before the orchestra pauses, Her Highness did promise me a dance."

Erendor looks taken aback, and Bloom has time to relax her posture before his gaze comes back to her. "May we continue this conversation later on?"

"...Of course." he says, and takes a step back realizing his encounter has been watched by someone else. His eyes slide to Baltor, and Bloom realizes he's still eyeing Sky's father. "Is there anything else?" Erendor asks after a moment.

"My apologies," Baltor gives an unfriendly smile. "I've just never seen such a cowardly mouse with such a large bite before."

Bloom's jaw drops, but she's led away before she can say anything else, or read Erendor's reaction.

The orchestra is in fact in the middle of their last song, but Baltor keeps them on the edges of the crowds. Bloom's spent more time in dance lessons since her first disaster in Alfea's library with Stella teaching her, but it takes her a moment to get the steps right. Baltor for his part doesn't say anything, waiting for her to become more comfortable with the steps to truly lead. His hands are around her waist, hers on his shoulders; they don't dance as much as keep in time with the music.

She finally looks over at Baltor when she trusts herself to speak. He isn't looking at her, but she knows he has been. "You didn't need to do that," she says.

"I know." His voice sounds more like himself than it had before. "I've never liked Erendor; even when he was friends with your father I thought he was an ass."

"Still...thank you."

"You're welcome." Bloom realizes it's the first time he's ever said it to her. After a few moments his normal smirk comes back to his face. "So, trouble in paradise?"

"Yeah," Bloom doesn't bother trying to hide it. "His memory's gone; he lost it in one of the battles. He doesn't know about his royal training or his time at Red Fountain...or me."

"You stopped wearing the ring," he notes quietly, his gaze falling to her hand.

"I didn't want to accidentally influence him. Being engaged is a big shocker."

"Even if said influence is true?"

"Even if said influence is true. It just...made me think. He remembers he's supposed to be king, remembers Brandon, Diaspro, even Stella, and his Red Fountain training. But not proposing. And it was upsetting, but also...sort of a relief? I never really wanted to get married young, or if so I wanted all this fighting to be over." Bloom sighs. "Maybe he really belongs with Diaspro."

"Paint her as the villain when you're not working for anything? That's hardly you."

Bloom's eyes widen. "I am -"

"Are you?" His smirk widens. "I'm hardly one to judge you, Bloom. I'm merely telling you what I see. If you don't _want_ to be with him anymore, that's one thing. And no one should blame you for falling out of love; such things happen." He finally looks her in the eye. "Not marrying prince charming doesn't make you less of a hero, or mean you should rot alone."

She stares at him for a few seconds, at a loss of what to say. "That's...quite a speech."

"I suppose it's a festive day." The smirk lessens in intensity and Bloom has to blink and set her mind straight because _no, no he probably did not just flirt with you_.

"...I suppose it is." Together, they slow to a halt, far enough away from the dance floor that they aren't noticed. Her hands are still on Baltor's shoulders, and his hands are still on her waist. She feels the same flush she had when she danced with Andy at their freshman Homecoming dance. "I'm glad you came, Baltor." She finally says, a small smile on her face.

He actually smiles back. "The pleasure was mine."

* * *

 _This chapter's popular tropes are_ _ **stuttering at the leading lady's dress**_ _and_ _ **the not-couple slow dancing**_ _._

 _We also have another_ _ **review question**_ _for the sake of_ _ **a shoutout**_ _next chapter;_ _ **Who is Baltor's favorite Star Wars character**_ _(remember that in order to keep the timeline right,_ _ **Episode VII**_ _isn't out yet)?_

 _While I appreciate the_ _ **interest in other stories I've written**_ _, I would mean a lot if reviews stuck to the content of_ _ **this story**_ _. If you have questions regarding other stories I've written/are writing,_ _ **kindly send me a PM or leave a comment there**_ _. Thank you._

 _*evil cackling in the distance over the next chapter*_


	16. Kiss

He kisses her on New Year's Eve.

Their relationship before that moment ends. Their relationship after it begins.

* * *

"Nope," Bloom sits down on his couch with a thud. "I refuse to let you spend New Year's Eve alone with your nose in a book."

"Oh really?" He glances over at her. "Don't you have an evil ocean sludge to battle?"

"I do, but he's gone underground. Come on, I have to wait another month before I can celebrate in Magix. New Year's is my favorite holiday."

"Really?"

"My parents usually rolled Christmas and my birthday into one - which was fine, but...money wasn't something we could just throw at it. But New Year's is just some party hats, neighbor's fireworks, and hope about the future."

"Ah, hope. Well that explains it then."

She glares at him, but it's friendly. "Ever seen the ball drop in New York City?"

Baltor looks over at the clock on the wall, reading half past nine. "Time change?"

"Oh, that's right." She puts her chin to her hand, pursing her lips.

He sighs. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That sad little sigh when you try to convince me to do things."

"I don't do that!" He stares at her pointedly, and she smirks. "Well I don't _force_ you."

Baltor scoffs at her, but sets his book aside. " _If_ I agree, you let me live in peace for a month. No taking me out for nights around the world on a whim."

Bloom grins. "Can I still drop by and take spellbooks if I need them?"

"Yes."

"Then I agree."

"Then, rumor has it, the best views are on the Thames River. We should start looking for a place to watch."

* * *

They start walking toward the river, making their way through the crowds of people. It quickly becomes apparent they won't make it to the riverside or onto the bridges without getting squished among tourists. Baltor hates the thought of being trapped within the hoards of people, but at the last minute Bloom tugs him through a gap in the crowd and under an awning everyone seem to be avoiding.

"Maybe waiting for New York isn't such a bad idea," she mutters.

He glances at the building behind them. They're in front of a theatre a few stories high that he's seen every now and then. And he sees lights on the roof of the building that aren't usually there. "What about sneaking into a view?" Baltor motions up, and Bloom follows his hand.

"A party on the roof?"

"It certainly would be less crowded," he says.

Bloom shrugs, zaps the door, and they slip inside.

Three floors up, they find themselves in the midst of a party with the cast, crew, and friends of the theatre. It's less crowded than the streets below, but there are still enough people to fade into the background easily. Pieces of the sets have been brought up onto the roof, and all Baltor can tell is that their show involves some strange paranormal themes. Bloom sneaks a few drinks and snacks from a table, and they take an area near the edge of the roof. Baltor stays and watches people snake through the streets below as Bloom goes off and mingles for a bit, eventually finding her way back with another round of drinks. Baltor doesn't know what time it is, but based on the murmur of the crowds on the street it's getting close to midnight.

"We should see their show later to compensate taking their drinks and food," she says with a small smile and passes him one. While the last drink had an orange taste, this one is more obviously a type of whiskey.

"It depends on if they're any good," he says, because he knows saying 'no' outright will just annoy her.

He must do a poor job of covering up his disinterest, because Bloom hits his shoulder playfully. "Even if they're horrible."

"If they're horrible, they should be glad they brought anyone through the door," he points out. Another quip is on his tongue, but he sees someone approaching and falls silent to be safe.

"Here you are," a blonde woman smiles at them and hands Bloom a white balloon with gold stars on it. "To release during the fireworks - they're a few minutes away. We're running short, so you couples will have to share."

Baltor senses Bloom tense beside him. "Oh, no no no," she stutters out, and he can only imagine the color of her cheeks.

"We're not a couple," he adds. "But I'm fine, thank you."

The woman glances between them, almost skeptically, then shrugs and heads off without arguing.

Baltor looks at the balloon, then at Bloom. Her cheeks are in fact red, but lighter than he thought they'd be. "So because I am a shut-in who refuses to interact with commoners," he says, and she smiles lightly without looking at him. "Is there _always_ such a focus on couples on your planet, or this holiday in particular?"

This is obviously the wrong thing to say, because he watches her cheeks darken again. "It's a superstition. You kiss someone at the start of the new year, or you'll have a year of loneliness."

He raises an eyebrow. "It seems like a ridiculous concept."

"It's not ridiculous! I happen to believe it."

Baltor can't help laughing at that. "After all the _real_ magic you've seen? Why in Magix name would you?"

She narrows her eyes at him, but the blush is back on her cheeks. "My dad always kissed me on New Years on the cheek; I liked to think it worked. And when my first boyfriend kissed me, it was the year I found out about my powers. I've done it every year since."

"And various people try to kill you every year," he points out, and Bloom rolls her eyes. "Well I suppose it's hard to feel lonely when monsters and witches keep attacking you."

"It's not about that, and you know it," Bloom leans over the half-wall to look at the streets below. "It's...I don't know. Like a tradition and a routine mixed together. It makes me feel better about the year ahead. Like I told you...before. I fear it."

He remembers their conversation in one of his old hideouts, seemingly decades ago. About death and loneliness and wanting to run from them, even though eventually they caught up with everyone. He remembers Bloom that night, looking tall and in-control despite being a teenager with less than three years of training under her belt. It's the same girl standing next to him now, but for some reason she looks younger and more soft. Likely due to the lighting, he tells himself. _More_ than likely due to the alcohol.

Baltor leans over next to her and squeezes her shoulder. "You are ridiculously superstitious, especially when you know such things aren't true. But I suppose saying so will not put your mind at ease."

Bloom chuckles, but doesn't turn to look at him. She _does_ however reach up and place her hand over his, not gripping but resting. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment, continuing his other line of conversation. "If you are so determined to do this, you should make your selection now."

 _That_ causes her to look back at him. She raises an eyebrow quizzically. "What?"

"Bloom, there are more than a few men here willing to help you fight superstition. Granted if you're recognized the press may have a field day..."

"Wait...eww! Gross!" She moves her hand and turns to face him. "I'm not going to kiss a stranger!"

"Does that invalidate your fictional rules?" he asks with a smirk.

Bloom crosses her arms over her chest. "While many people may be willing to exchange saliva with a total stranger for the sake of tradition, I'm not one of them."

"Well then you made a mistake asking _me_ to accompany -" Baltor's cut off as the crowds below start to yell. He glances over the roof at people waving flags and banners. It dies down, and he realizes people are counting down. "The brunette who asked you to dance twice may be a good candidate." he says mildly.

"Okay! Dumb tradition, I get it." Bloom snaps, and he hears sadness creeping into her voice. He blames the alcohol; he's never seen her drink more than a single bottle, and she's on her third now.

"Oh for…" he turns to face her again. " _I'll_ kiss you."

They both stop as soon as he says the words, the echoing of numbers filling the void.

"...What?" Bloom finally asks, blinking as though waking up from a dream.

"I will kiss you; if it's that important to you." Even as he says the words his brain is yelling at him. _What are you doing? What the hell are you saying?_

She opens her mouth, then closes it. "You would kiss me?"

"It's not as if we're enemies anymore. Our...mutual interactions over the last few years have at the very least dulled some of those emotions. And if I don't offer I'll never hear the end of it." He adds, trying to think of anything, _anything_ to justify the ridiculous thoughts he's having.

"Do...you _want_ to kiss me?"

It's too loaded of a question, so Baltor smirks instead. "Afraid I'll turn you into a frog?"

The quip seems to snap her out of her shock. He sees the muscles in her jaw tighten, and feels her Dragon Fire flare. "Fine." His jaw falls slightly before he can stop it, and Bloom smirks. "Didn't think I'd say yes?"

"Honestly? No." The counting has reached below twenty.

"So long as you don't _actually_ turn me into a frog."

"I promise not to turn you into a frog."

They're roughly an arm's length apart. Bloom bites her lip and takes a small step towards him. "This doesn't mean anything."

He takes a step towards her. "Of course not. It never will mean anything."

"Right. Just between friends." Another step.

"Quite a strange pair of friends." They're in front of each other. Baltor meets her eyes; they're dilated, shining in the lights around them.

"Yeah well, what else is new in our lives?"

Baltor has to smile at that. He glances at the party around them. People are gathered among friends, couples in corners who have jumped ahead of the clock. Dozens of them on the roof, thousands below, and no one looking at him except Bloom. He hears the number 'six' on the streets below.

"Please tell me there isn't a strange Earth custom for kissing I don't know."

"Well you're about to find out."

She comes up short, so Baltor puts his hands under her elbows and uses a levitation spell to help lift her.

It isn't pure magic. They're both too scared to move, leaving their lips pressed against each other like children. Their noses brush, tiny hairs scratching against skin and jolting nerves. Bloom breathes out her nose, and the warm air running down Baltor's cheek makes him shiver in the cool air.

Despite all that, Baltor feels like his chest is on fire. Bloom's lips are soft and slightly parted on his own. Their magic flows from one body to another, connecting them like a circuit. It's an addictive feeling, almost as addictive as she is. Common sense begins to fade from his mind. His hands tighten on her elbows, and he feels her hands slide up to grip the front of his jacket.

The sound of the first fireworks startle them, and they break apart. Baltor glances up briefly before returning his gaze to Bloom. Her cheeks are crimson, and as she catches his eye he feels a small shiver go through her. Vaguely, he realizes he's still holding her up, and lets the spell drop. His hands stay on her elbows, and Bloom's stay on his chest. For a few seconds, all they do is look at each other while people around them cheer. He has no idea what happened to the balloon.

"Well," Bloom says, finally. "Happy New Year."

"...Yes. Happy New Year."

* * *

 _It's_ _ **the chapter you've all been waiting for!**_

 _The theatre is putting on_ _ **The Woman In Black**_ _._

 _ **Andy**_ _gave Bloom her first_ _ **New Year's Kiss**_ _._

 _We're just gonna_ _ **assume**_ _the magic dimension goes by the_ _ **Lunar New Year**_ _._

 _Everyone was so excited about the last chapter they didn't answer the_ _ **review question**_ … _.Baltor's favorite Star Wars character_ _ **remains a mystery, then**_ _._


	17. Reunite

She wants to save Daphne.

There are things she wants to do first, of course. Most of them involve inflicting pain on the Trix and their newest boytoy. Her sister's encounters with the Ancestral Witches were enough torment for a lifetime; Tritannus holding her hostage is just more icing on the cake. There has to be something she can do, but until she can get those four out of the Infinite Ocean, she's in a stalemate. But Bloom has an idea - still in it's early stages, but an idea nonetheless.

But before she can start looking into it, there's one thing she needs to take care of.

* * *

Sky looks at the pendant and ring in Bloom's outstretched hand, and then back to her face. "You're sure?" he asks, but it sounds like he knows the answer already.

Bloom bites her lip and nods. "I'm sure."

He sighs, but takes the pieces of jewelry and slips them back into his pocket. Then he reaches out and pulls her into a hug. "You couldn't have broken up with me _before_ I remember I proposed, huh?"

She laughs into his shoulder. "You know I couldn't do that."

"No. I'm glad you didn't." They finally pull away from each other. Sky's eyes are shining with tears, and Bloom realizes she's close to crying herself. "Just...It _wasn't_ the memory loss thing, right?"

"...Not _just_ that, anyway." Bloom's thought about this for a long time; more so in the last few weeks. "It made me reevaluate things. Look at what I didn't want to see. I would've figure it out eventually, even if you hadn't lost it." She pauses. "I'm sorry."

His lips quirk in a small smile. "You don't need to apologize for that. I'd rather you be happy, no matter what. You know that."

"I know. But it doesn't mean I'm still not sorry." Bloom shoves her hands into her pockets. "We've been through a lot of things, and I don't want to forget that. I know the 'let's still be friends' thing is a cliché that almost never works out, but…"

Sky nods. "I'd like to be."

"Me too."

"But I need some time. To figure out where I stand with you, and what kind of relationship I want to have with you. What kind of friends."

Bloom nods. The statement doesn't hurt her as much as she expects. "That's fair. Take all the time you need. And if you don't want me to hang out with the others when you're there, just tell me. Or have Brandon tell me or something."

"Yeah." Sky takes a deep breath. The tears Bloom had seen in his eyes are dissipating, but he still swipes at them. "I used to think about this happening. I always thought I'd be...well. Maybe that means I've known this was coming, too."

"Maybe we both did." Bloom pauses. "You're going to make someone really happy someday, Sky."

He smiles at that, and reaches down to grab his bag. "So are you, Bloom. Whoever that ends up being."

* * *

Bloom does not break up with Sky because of Baltor - at least that's what she tells herself. There were other issues in their relationship; their ages, kingdoms to run, the thoughts of being tied down for the rest of her life, and the fact that Erendor _really_ doesn't seem to like her. Their relationship was never defined by anyone other than their own fears, wants, and personalities.

But you know, when you kiss another man while you're engaged, it's probably a sign _something_ is wrong.

There are other specifics, but she decides to save them for another day. And she has other things to do, involving ancient magic research. Alfea's library has given her no clues, so despite her fears she knows where to check next.

Baltor isn't in his apartment, and Bloom's almost grateful for that. She hasn't seen or spoken to him since New Years, and she does _not_ feel like explaining her breakup. Of course that doesn't change the fact she _should_ see him, make sure things between them are still okay, but she's too worried about what will happen if the answer to that question is _no_ , so for the time being it seems better to just not ask.

She's in the middle of her third hour, working through a particularly thick volume on fairy transformations when there's a cough, and when Bloom looks up Baltor is standing in the doorway looking at her.

Bloom knew it would be strange, but she wasn't expecting the tension to be so... _awkward_.

It seems like longer than a few seconds, but she finally manages to stutter out: "To be fair, I'm not here to whisk you away for the evening. Just raiding your magic history books."

"I can see that," Baltor says. His look is far too calculated to be natural, and it makes Bloom's pulse elevate. Things _are_ different; of course they would be. "Does this involve picking my brain as well?"

"Well it depends on how helpful the books are."

He chuckles a bit, and it relaxes her slightly. "The most recent book in there covers the early twentieth century, and go back from there."

Baltor walks over to the table and picks up one of her already discarded volumes. "What are you looking for information about?"

"Sirenix."

To an untrained eye, it would seem Baltor didn't flinch at the mention of the fairy form. But Bloom know better - she sees his fingers squeeze the page he's holding, his shoulders rise like he's taken a breath but don't relax. He puts the book back on the table and takes a breath. "You likely won't find anything in there," he nods to the book but doesn't meet her eye. "I might have one in the shelf in my room. Let me look."

"Thanks," she says with a raised eyebrow, and watches him go back to the bedroom. "So you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"Anything about Sirenix." Bloom snaps her fingers and the pot of coffee she made earlier flies over the counter and into the living room, dipping to refill her cup. "I'm trying to find anything I can about it, and it seems like the Ancestresses had something to do with its corruption."

"Then you know as much as I do," a second later he emerges with a book under his arm. Baltor raises an eyebrow at the coffee pot, but doesn't comment on it. His look makes Bloom smile. "I didn't have the resources to tamper with something so powerful, even if I wanted to. The first time I ever heard about Sirenix was when they told me they used it to imprison your sister. I thought it was a myth before then."

"Yeah, you and me both...thanks," Bloom takes the book from his outstretched hand and flips to the folded pages. "Background information?"

"Mostly. It's a book of known fairy forms - it won't have as much detail as a work specifically dedicated to a form, but more than some ancient myth from Andros."

"I didn't even think there were forms beyond Enchantix before Faragonda told us about them." Curiously, she flips forward a bit in the book, looking at a drawing of large, almost butterfly-looking wings before she snaps back to the task at hand. "But that's not the point."

"Most fairys only reach as far as Enchantix during their studies - a good many never even surpass Charmix. Going beyond that used to be saved for grave situations only. It appears all the chaos in the dimension now just goes to you six on a regular basis."

Bloom smirks. "Trust me, I wish it didn't. Stella complains about how often she has to rework her closet to match whatever form we have."

"How exhausting," Baltor quips. "What are you looking for in there? Information on gaining it?"

"Got that part down. I'm more curious about the wish we're supposed to get."

"You get a wish?" There's still a touch of awkwardness in his voice, and Bloom doesn't know if it's because of her interest in the transformation or because of _her_.

"Supposedly...ha! Here it is...because they said 'wish,' I want to know if it's a real rule-free wish, or like a genie-style wish with limitations..."

"What would be the point of a wish if it had limits?" Baltor asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't know, it's an Earth thing. Most being that grant wishes have limits...no making people fall in love, no killing, no bringing people back from the dead."

"How mundane," Bloom's Dragon Fire flares a bit, and she glances up to see him leaning over her in the chair, reading through the page she's on. Quickly, she averts her eyes back to the page, ignoring the fact that she can feel some of his hair brush her cheek. "See? Nothing about limitations on a Sirenix wish."

She takes a deep breath to level her heart rate. "Yeah. Good. Too bad you weren't here earlier - would've saved me a few hours of research."

Baltor chuckles and Bloom - thankfully - looks back to see him straighten up. "I assume this means you have something up your sleeve for this wish."

"I do. Daphne."

There isn't a response, and the room falls into silence again. She turns to Baltor, and that same look is on his face. Though she doesn't want to, she meets his eyes, holding his gaze for what feels like a very long time. He breaks first, sighing and turning his head away. "Why am I not surprised?"

Bloom bites her lip. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Looking at me like I'm going to throw you out that window. Look I know it's been weird since…" she trails off when she sees his shoulders tense again. "That kiss was a mistake, wasn't it?"

Baltor sighs. "It's not about the kiss. Not completely."

"No?"

"Bloom...you should know I still feel very responsible for what occurred on Sparx." He pauses and gives a humorless laugh. "I _am_ still responsible. Perhaps it's all the time I've spent _not_ under the Ancestresses, but remembering what I've done now..."

The awkwardness fades slightly, and Bloom smiles. "Is this the great wizard Baltor...having a _moral_ _dilemma_ about his past actions?"

It's the right thing to say, and he smirks at her. "You bruise my already fragile ego, Your Highness."

Bloom laughs and stands to stretch her legs. "My apologies. Maybe it's a good sign though. You're becoming a better person."

"If it makes you feel better."

"It does." She looks over at the clock on the wall. "I should be heading back. The girls are going to be ready for an multi-hour interrogation."

"Have you been here that long?"

"N-No, it's not that. It's..." Bloom reaches up to fiddle with her pendant before remembering she didn't have it anymore.

Baltor notices. His eyes go from her bare neck to her left hand. She watches his eyes scan her ring-less fingers, and he gave a sharp inhale. "Bloom."

Of course he would have realized she didn't have them anymore. Of _course_ that would make things worse. "Y-you were right. On Sparx, when we were dancing. I was being a brat. People...fall out of love. And that's okay."

He opens his mouth, but before any words come out Bloom's phone goes off. She scrambles to get it out of her pocket, and hits the silence button. "It's a text. Stella."

Bloom watches Baltor take a few deep breaths. His fists clench and then relax, and then he takes a step towards her, and another, until they're less than an arm's length apart. She looks up at him. "I know you need to go," Baltor says to her, his voice surprisingly soft. "But later, when this ends - you fighting Tritannus and the Trix - I think you and I are due for a talk."

She gulps. "About?"

" _Bloom_."

" _Okay_. Okay...yeah, you're right. Sounds good." She takes a breath. "I didn't break up with Sky because of...what happened. You should know that."

"I certainly hope not. That…" Baltor trails off, shaking his head. There's a small smile on his face, but it isn't happy.

She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder before she can think better of it. His shoulders don't tense like they did before, and something about that makes her stomach turn. It's relief and anxiety and fear and something else she vehemently ignores. She almost takes her hand back, but at the last moment leaves it there. "We said nothing would change. Even before the kiss. But they have, haven't they?"

Baltor sighs. "Yes. Yes, I think they have."

* * *

 _Breaking News: local fanfic author found_ _ **alive**_ _after_ _**five months**_ _, wrapped in a comforter staring at a_ _ **half finished word document**_ _on her laptop while sipping tea. She is said to be in_ _ **stable condition**_ _, and hopes to make a_ _ **speedy recovery**_ _back to_ _ **regular updates**_ _._

 _Some people…...okay fine,_ _ **I**_ _have at times taken the route of_ _ **Sky goes nuts/becomes a jealous asshole**_ _after he and Bloom break up. That's_ _ **not happening here**_ _, because oddly enough recent looks back have made me think of Sky as_ _ **mildly okay**_ _._

 _Bloom sees a picture of_ _ **Butterflix wings**_ _(Season 7's first transformation) in the book._

 _This was supposed to be a_ _ **shorter chapter**_ _with not a lot of_ _ **romantic undertones**_ _. I don't know what happened._


	18. Lie

He needs an outlet.

Before his defeat, Baltor would take his pent-up aggression out on those who stood in his way - guards, royal officials, security systems. It wasn't the most moral of coping methods, but in those days Baltor hardly acted as a moral man. The feeling of power was - and still is - addicting to him. It's worse now with his powers returning and nothing to use them on. Even with them being mostly lighter magic.

Sibylla has offered use of some training rooms in the caves before. Baltor has taken her up on the offer before, mostly sparring against her top guard members who had figured out who he was. He's alone in the room when Sibylla finds him, working against the practice dummies with more force than usual. His breathing is heavy and heart rate elevated, but it's been so long the feeling is welcomed instead of revered.

"We have a dress code, you know."

Baltor glances at his discarded shirt and jacket, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure your fairies can handle it."

She's silent for a few moments, taking in his aura and the way he's wielding his magic. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"If you're going to stand and ogle you could conjure something for me to fight?"

There's a sigh, and a few moments later vines spring up out of the ground, morphing into human figures that advance towards him. He nods his thanks and goes up against the first one that makes a move.

"Is there something you _ought_ to tell me?" Sibylla asks instead.

"Nothing that's your business."

He sees her flick a finger, and two more of the humanoids advance towards him. Before he can launch an attack something wraps around his shoulder, and Baltor is thrown onto his back, staring up at a cluster of dark green leaves and moss.

"Try again." Her tone is hard.

Baltor sits up and finally looks straight at her. "There's nothing to discuss. Another ghost of my past. Only this time on a more literal level."

"Someone's discovered you're here?"

"No. No, thank Arcadia" The vines retract from his shoulder and he stands. "Things I did during the war on Sparx are likely going to come back to light."

"Something that hasn't been discovered in the two years Sparx has been resurrected?" Sibylla's voice doesn't explicitly betray her disbelief, but Baltor sees it in the way her eyebrow twitches and her fingers tap against her thigh. It annoys him more than anything; nowadays when he actually tells the truth, people think he's lying.

 _I've done in my life. Things that - if Bloom ever found out - would drop me from whatever good graces she has me in now._

"Magic on Sparx comes from two sources," Baltor finally says, because he may as well tell someone. "The Dragon Fire, and the Dragon's Flame. The Flame came first, passed down through the royal family. The wielder can share or pass it to whomever they choose, but it can't be taken by force. That's where the Dragon Fire came from - centuries ago a king shared the power with his planet, losing almost all of it himself. But it grew back stronger in both him and the people." He fights one of the vine figures that comes towards him, flipping it onto its back when it tries to turn and hit him. "There's an old saying; don't like your fire, go for the flame."

"...You attempted to take it by force, knowing you would fail?"

He sighs. "There's...an exception. The Flame can be taken if its wielder dies without passing it to someone else. It's only happened a handful of times in Sparx history, but when it does it turns the tides of war. During Sparx last one, the Flame was in the hands of its eldest princess, Daphne."

Sibylla doesn't say anything, but when Baltor turns his head to look at her she can't slip her face back to a neutral expression in time. His smile isn't friendly. "And it's no secret who was assigned to try and turn the tides of said war."

"...No it isn't." She raises a hand and the shifting humanoids freeze in place. "Have you told Bloom?"

"Not even when she's asked."

This time the surprise is evident on the Major Fairy's face. "You lied to her? Why?"

"Because that's all I am anymore; a walking history book. Containing my greatest faults and reminders of power I can no longer gain. That I'm not what I had wanted to be after so long." He sends a beam of magic out and turns one of the practice dummies to ash. The anger in his chest lessens, and Baltor sighs. "That one thing - my worst moment - had somehow escaped common knowledge. I didn't think much of it then, and afterwords...I was happy to leave it behind. To not be the direct cause of the royal family's demise, but a pawn who later tried to conquer everything."

"Yes, because that's working so well," Sibylla says dryly, her gaze on the charred plant remains around the room.

Baltor doesn't spare them a glance. "Bloom will be soon be given the opportunity to resurrect her sister. Perhaps it won't lead to the confession - Daphne's never said before. But I've underestimated both those girls before. I've learned to be overly cautious."

"Would you do it again?"

The question is so sudden Baltor jerks his head back. "What?"

"Given the opportunity, would you kill Daphne again?"

Something strikes him at the word _kill_ , but Baltor doesn't comment on it. He's heard the word before - even from Bloom, when he first woke up after their last showdown. He remembers the disgust in her voice then. It used to annoy him, and now it pulls at his chest even after telling himself over and over again that he _shouldn't_ feel that.

"No," he finally says, and is surprised at how steady his voice sounds. "I was young and foolish then. My ego wouldn't let me see how much I was being played."

She raises an eyebrow. "And because you care about her?"

Baltor can't meet her gaze. The circle of emotions constantly running through his head starts up again; that for so long he's hated Bloom, but now the hate is gone, but it might _not_ be if Bloom hadn't gotten in the way. How the idea of his hurt pride has slowly diminished, how he has _dared_ to think for the first time in nearly twenty years, he could be content with how things were. The embarrassment he used to carry in his chest at such thoughts is now no more than a flutter. It's time, he's told himself. Time and a pair of sapphire eyes.

"Yes." It's what Sibylla wants to hear. Maybe what part of him wants to hear, too.

To her credit, Sibylla doesn't grin or get a giddy look in her eyes like a teenage girl would. Her face remains serious, as if this is only the first step on a climb up a mountain. But she nods, and the gesture makes him feel a bit better. "Then maybe you should start with that."

* * *

Bloom is asleep on his couch when gets back.

It's not just that fact that's surprising. It's that she's asleep on his couch, wrapped in a throw blanket last seen in a crumpled heap at the foot of his bed. Her hair's a tangled mess and half in her eyes, her shirt half-off her shoulder. The purple boots she's been wearing lately are leaning against the coffee table with a small bag. A pot of - probably cold at this point - coffee is on the kitchen counter, a mug next to it.

Nothing's perfect - far from it. But it looks like she belongs here.

One glance at the clock tells him she should be back at Alfea - she nevers stay this late. So against his better judgement, Sibylla's voice still ringing in his ears, he goes over and sits on the coffee table across from her, avoiding her boots (he'll never admit to her that he hates them because they make her almost as tall as he is). After a moment's hesitation, he reaches out and pushes her bangs back from her face, letting his fingers brush against her forehead to wake her.

As with Bloom, nothing is picturesque. While a heroine would slowly blink her eyes open, fully rested and calm, she jerks awake, eyes alert and ready to fight something unexpected. A hand somehow breaks free under the blanket, but Baltor catches it easily before she hits him. "Just me," he says, his voice softer than he thought it would be.

Her eyes find his, and the surprise at being woken up melts away. Bloom's head drops back to the cushion, her lids closing and a small, unfiltered smile going across her lips. Baltor's chest tightens again, but this time without the hints of regret. His fingers stay in her hair, stroking softly.

 _Her instinct reaction to you isn't even fear anymore._

"Hey," Bloom murmurs, drawing his attention back to her. "Sorry for showing up unannounced."

"You're never sorry." There's no sarcasm or bite to his response; just stating a fact as he would any other. "You look like hell."

Bloom smiles again, her eyes fluttering open. "Long day. Playing kindergarten teacher for half the royalty of the universe and then battling evil sludge monsters."

"Kindergarten?"

"Primary school," she says after a moment, coming up with the British equivalent he'll recognize. "Five year olds. People who should be working together anyway but don't. I hate the politics of the magic dimension."

"You'd be hardpressed to find someone that doesn't."

She hums in agreement, sleep slowly edging out of her voice. She blinks her eyes open wider. "When did you get back?"

"Not long ago."

"Out on more exciting book hunts I'm sure."

"...Talking with an acquaintance, actually."

Bloom actually smiles this time. "What? There's an actual _human_ you talk to besides me? That almost sounds like a social life."

He chuckles. "I _do_ things besides sit around and wait for you to show up with history questions. Shocking, I know."

"Very." Bloom sits up, stretching her arms above her head and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Mascara smudges on her top lid. "We're in the home stretch with Tritannus. I can feel it. Sometime soon - hopefully within the next few weeks, this'll all be over."

He trusts her judgment on such things; he remembers feeling the same, watching the Winx break his final hold on Cloud Tower. "Until the next power-hungry assailant comes banging on the dimension's door."

"Big talk from a guy who used to be said-assailant." She winks. "At least there's usually a few months break in between. Long enough for things to _almost_ feel normal without bad guys."

"A break would be a welcome change. Give the BBC less to complain about," Baltor noted. He straightens up, and Bloom turns her full attention to him. "I was serious about talking to you when this finally blows over. You know that, right?"

She stiffens for a moment. "Yeah."

Baltor raises an eyebrow and watches her chew her bottom lip. "It's just...sort of daunting." She finally says. "The idea of it."

"Still that scared of me?"

His sarcasm is rewarded with an annoyed glare that fades to tension just as quickly. "You know what I mean. It's...the unknown. About what happens, what we do, how we deal with...us."

'Us' lingers in the air, heavy.

Baltor breaks first, because in his head he feels responsible; he's older, has seen more, has _changed_ more. He's the one that held her on the living room floor while she sobbed, he's the one who agreed to dance with her on Sparx, he's the one who suggested the kiss. "Do you want there to be an _us_? In any sense of the word?"

She laughs a little and shrugs. "Don't know. I've never really thought through what developing feelings for your former sworn enemy would _feel_ like."

"I'm not encouraging you to act on them. Not after everything that's happened."

"I know."

He rolls his eyes. "I tried to _kill_ you."

"I know."

"You broke off your engagement with your fiancé of two years less than three months ago."

"I know." She pauses, meeting his eyes again. "Do _you_ want there to be an _us_?"

The question is one Baltor associates Sibylla or the Old Bat with, not Bloom. He's never thought of her being brave enough to ask it. "I can live if there's not," he says, because that's the first thing that comes into his mind that isn't a single word.

Bloom smiles, barely. "That's not an answer."

"...The answer's more complicated than a 'yes' or 'no.' I," he pauses and takes a breath. "I know I tell you there are things about me you don't know, that I don't like admitting to. You really _should_ know them before deciding on anything. And you should hear them when you're not preoccupied with saving the universe. The minute Tritannus is sent to the underwater equivalent of Omega you can portal yourself here, but not before."

She drums her fingers against her leg but, eventually, nods. "Fair point."

"Every now and then," he says mildly, glancing to the clock. "And speaking of fair points, isn't this usually your time to head back to Alfea? After a very short but layered encounter about our history?"

That at least causes a laugh, and Bloom shoves the blanket away and reaches for her shoes. "Fine, fine, but only to stop hearing about how many good idea you have. What a horrible way to wake up."

Baltor smirks. "Seems like a fair trade for the blows you given my ego."

"Whatever makes you feel better." Boots on she stands, Baltor following suit. As expected, instead of looking down at her, the shoes bring her up to nearly his height. The more easygoing look on her face dissipates. "I'll probably be touch and go for a while. Not that you don't know that's what happens with things like this, but just so you don't think I'm avoiding this. I may not be back here the second Tritannus is gone, but I will be as soon as I can."

He nods. "Do what you need to. I don't exactly have anywhere to be."

Bloom smiles at him, and Baltor feels her hand slip into his and squeeze. He looks down at their intertwined fingers, and before his gaze can come back, he's alone.

* * *

 _Eighteen chapters, finally got the_ _ **fic title**_ _in there. Wasn't even on purpose. And_ _ **pointing out my own fic tropes**_ _. Go me._

 _Ten points for_ _ **shirtless**_ _Baltor!_

 _Man remember when I said these were going to be_ _ **shorter chapters**_ _with more frequent updates? Lol_

 _Speaking of which!_ _ **Bad news**_ _: I write things out of order._ _ **Good news**_ _: The next chapter is already done. It'll be up next week (for reals). Ignore the_ _ **thunder and lighting**_ _in the distance. Sure that's not a_ _ **bad omen**_ _or anything._

 ** _Update 3/22:_** _Wow this chapter was riddled with spelling/grammar errors. Went back, and hopefully they're all fixed now!_ ****


	19. Ascertain

She finds out why he didn't say anything about Daphne. She finds out as she sits at a great table, Daphne on one end and an official record keeper on the other. Her parents are next to her, and several members of the Magix Council opposite them.

"I have been sent by the council to receive a statement from you," the recordkeeper says to her sister, waving his hand over a recording device that then lights up, "regarding the events before and during your death in order to obtain a more accurate timeline of this planet's history. Please answer these questions as truthfully as possible, and to the best of your recollection; I am not here to judge you. Do you understand?"

Daphne looks uncomfortable, but nods. "Yes."

"Please state your name and any level of magic wielding."

"Daphne, crowned Princess of Sparx, and one of the nine nymphs in charge of protecting the dimension; I have served both Magix and my home world. Until recently, I was also the last person to obtain Sirenix."

"And Sirenix is what led to you losing your corporeal form?"

"Yes."

The recordkeeper nods, scribbling some things down in a book he'd brought. "Why did you decide to acquire this form?"

Daphne bites her lip as though the topic is uncomfortable. She glances at Bloom briefly, who gives her an encouraging smile.

Daphne sighs. "I was told it would be the best way to defend my younger sister, Princess Bloom, and protect my planet."

"And who told you that?"

"Baltor."

The smile falls off Bloom's face.

Everyone in the room looks surprised, even the record keeper, who has to regain his composure. "Baltor, the dark wizard who worked with the Ancient Witches?"

"The very same."

"...When did he tell you this?"

"He was posing as a security captain - they were like the guards, but ones worked with the royal family and focused on their security. The Ancestral Witches had just begun their first attacks on the planet, and everyone was worried. My parents especially. I...snuck into a meeting they had with the Magix Council, following the Eastern Siege." She looks guilty at the fact. "They were discussing ancient, powerful magic that could possibly combat the Ancestresses. Baltor was in the hallway when I came back outside. We started talking, and he told me there was an old fairy form buried within the oceans that could possibly combat them. It was called Sirenix."

Bloom grips her skirt under the table just to have something to occupy her hands with. A cold feeling has blossomed in the pit of her stomach, steadily dropping from the temperature of a cool breeze to ice.

"I thought he wanted to help. He had been fighting against monsters the Ancestresses sent to the palace, getting along with my parents...the maids were always gossiping about how handsome he was. They...weren't wrong."

The recordkeeper exchanges a look with a few of the Council members. "I-I'm sorry, Your Highness. This is news to many of us. Never before had we heard -"

"It wasn't public knowledge," Daphne actually smiles, though it's sad. "I knew Sirenix wasn't easy to discover, and that I shouldn't have been worried because I was so young. Baltor and I worked at night, mostly, or when my parents were in meetings. It was figuring out the riddles left by the nymphs, obtaining the gems...we worked well together."

"Forgive the intrusion, but we need to know...did the relationship ever evolve into something romantic?"

Bloom feels her chest tighten, and almost laughs at how stupid such a feeling is. For a moment she smells smoggy air and hears people counting down from ten. _Please tell me there isn't a strange Earth custom for kissing I don't know._

Daphne looks the recordkeeper in the eye. "No. I'd be lying if I said the idea hadn't interested me, but I decided it could wait until my planet was safe. To quote one of Bloom's Earth idioms, I believe I dodged a bullet."

The humor evokes a few chuckles from the room, but Bloom barely remembers to smile.

"A few days before all hell broke lose, Baltor disappeared from the palace. He was found out as a spy, but only my parents knew. They didn't say anything, especially to me. I understand now - tensions were high, and it's not easy to admit you've been fooled by the enemy for so long," she casts a small smile to Oritel and Miriam. "We had figured out where the book was by then, and made plans to go there to finally obtain the power. I figured Baltor was either busy on some secret assignment from my parents, or he'd meet me there."

"So you went ahead to Lake Roccaluce on your own? Where you were ambushed?"

"Yes."

"Did you see Baltor?"

"Not at first. I got to the book, and figured out too late it had been tampered with. I was on the floor of the lake, my air bubble failing when I saw him. He…" Daphne took a deep breath. "He had the book in his hand, and the look he was giving me...I knew then. That I had been deceived. He thanked me for hand-delivering the Flame to the Ancestresses, and after that I passed out."

"But you didn't have the Flame." Bloom doesn't realize she's said anything until people's eyes snap to her. "I did."

"That's right," Daphne says. "Mom kept her pregnancy secret from everyone - only the head doctor and I knew. You were always supposed to have the Flame - we had decided that. I gave it to you before leaving for Magix just in case something happened. It was a safety measure that ended up working in our favor."

She manages a weak smile.

"So," the recordkeeper pulls their attention back. "You're certain? Baltor is the one who tampered with the book of Sirenix? He's the one who caused the loss of your corporeal form?"

"Yes."

 _You don't want to ever know what it's like. Standing over someone and watching their life fade from their eyes._

"By the time I got back to Sparx, it was under attack. I didn't know where Mom and Dad were. They could take care of themselves though, so I went to find Bloom. The palace was deserted, some of it already on fire; I figured one of Mom's midwives had taken Bloom when they evacuated, so I headed for the escape tunnels. The fires...they didn't burn me when I went near them - it didn't even feel hot. I realized it was me, and the Sirenix powers. I got too close once and...there was a body in the flames."

"Which tunnels did you use?" the recordkeeper is scribbling notes furiously - history references is all Bloom can figure, but her eyes stay on Daphne.

"The ones in the bedroom wing. The fires hadn't reached there yet. But before I got there, I heard something from the nursery. A thing with Dragon Fire is you can sense others who have it. It's a stronger sense than it is between two magic-wielders. I just...I knew. Bloom was still inside."

"We gave Bloom to Annette," Bloom hears her mother whisper, almost in disbelief.

Daphne hears too, and shakes her head sadly. Her eyes are shining with tears, but her face is strong. "I don't think she made it. Or something stopped her."

"But your sister, Princess Bloom, was inside the room? Alone?"

"No." Daphne lips move for few moments, but no words come out. "I went inside and...and Baltor. He was there. Holding my sister."

Bile rises in Bloom's throat, and she has to swallow it back down. The tips of her fingers are white now, digging into her palms so much she'll probably bruise. She must make a noise of some kind because Oritel turns to look at her and puts a hand on her shoulder. She's too numb to react to it.

"I could feel his magic, too. He was charging up a spell."

"Do you know what it was?" The recordkeeper asks, and Bloom wants to hit him for the hints of excitement in his voice, as if he's on the edge of his seat waiting for the climax of a movie.

"No. But since he had attempted to destroy me and take the Flame just hours ago...I had an idea." Daphne reaches up and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. "And I was just so _angry_ , because I had believed him. Going after me or my parents was one thing, but Bloom was a baby. And she was _smiling_ at him, because she smiled at everyone - she loved anyone who held her, and it just made me _sick…_ " Daphne takes a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. It's something I've tried to forget."

"Not at all. Would you like to pause?"

She nods. "Please."

The man nods, and waves his hand over the device again. The blinking light stops.

Bloom stands up almost immediately. "I need some air."

Miriam looks concerned. "Do you want one of us to go with you honey?"

She forces a smile. "No, no. I just...I didn't know that happened. It surprised me. I won't be long, okay?" Bloom only stops to hug Daphne. When the large wood doors close behind her, the grin falls off her face.

Bloom takes her heels off and walks. The hall in this section of the palace is long and rarely used; she's the only one there. She steps one foot in front of the other, not quite sure what she's doing until she's at the end of it, pulling back a large curtain to see a bay window. She's sat here before and spent hours drawing the landscape outside; she considers it _her_ space, where she can be alone and uninterrupted.

The wood under the bench creaks as Bloom steps onto it and pulls the curtain closed so she's hidden. She pulls her legs up, hugs them to her chest, casts a soundproof spell around the enclosed area, and cries.

It feels like a long time, even though it's only a few minutes. She thinks about a lot of things; Daphne, being trapped for so many years, tortured by Tritannus; her parents, encased in stone for almost two decades; her planet, frozen in ice. And Baltor - she thinks a lot about Baltor. The predatory look he used to give her in battle, the anger in his eyes when she said she was sparing him, the openness in which he told her about Sparx, how he was there the last time she broke down like this...

And New Years. And how warm his lips were. And the look she thought of as hopeful when they talked about the word us -

Bloom cries. She cries until the sadness and betrayal has dried up, leaving only emptiness.

Emptiness and anger.

* * *

 _I said a week, I know._ _ **I got sick**_ _last night when I was going to post this, so you'll have to take a week and_ _ **a day**_ _._

 _Please remember to support your local_ _ **pitchfork and torch**_ _sellers as you contemplate ways to kill me!_

 _Oh, next chapter's gonna be_ _ **fun**_ _! I'm excited. You should be too._


	20. Confront

He gets a call.

It's early evening, the sun just starting to set over the city. Baltor watches it from the pub he now frequents. The sky outside is a mixture of blue and orange, a welcome distraction from the BBC droning on about whether or not Tritannus has been defeated, and what such repercussions mean for green energy companies. For the first time, Baltor wishes a football match was on instead. And he's learned he _hates_ football.

Maybe that's why he picks up his phone so fast; sheer boredom.

"Can you meet me on the roof of your building?"

Baltor pauses, listening over the noise around him. "Bloom?"

"Yeah. Are you busy right now?"

It's been almost a week since he's heard from her; not long compared to when he first settled in London, but as of late a very long time. "Not really. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course. I know you wanted to talk about stuff, and we need to but...I just need to give you an update on what happened with Tritannus and the Trix." There's a pause that seems off. "Mostly the Trix."

He sighs and raises a hand to the bartender and passes him a bill. "Sounds like fun. Give me ten minutes."

"Great."

* * *

"So why the roof?" Baltor asks, closing the access door behind him. Bloom's a few yards away, staring at the city with her back to him. The clothes she's wearing suggest the last few hours have been filled with briefings from the council members and other diplomats. "The apartment has air conditioning, at least. And scotch."

Bloom chuckles, and it makes Baltor stop walking towards her. It's a dark laugh, one he hasn't ever heard come from her. "I thought we needed privacy."

He raises an eyebrow. "Privacy?"

"My sister gave her deposition this morning." Bloom says nonchalantly. "She told the Magix Council how she died."

Baltor's eyes widen. He feels his heart stop and start beating rapidly. Bloom finally turns to face him. Her eyes are puffy as if she's been crying, but he doesn't need eyes to feel the anger radiating off her.

"You knew about Sirenix," Bloom continues. "You knew about what happened to Daphne. You _caused_ what happened to Daphne. And I asked you, and you lied to me."

He debates trying to reason with her, but sighs when he realizes there's no point. "I did. Let me explain."

There's a flash of light, and Baltor when Baltor can see again Bloom is hovering a few inches off the ground, Sirenix glittering on her. "No."

"Bloom - "

A blast of fire knocks him against the roof. He gasps as pain shoots down his back and knocks the air out of his lungs. _You can't remember pain_ \- that was something the Ancestresses had said to him when they first infused him with dark magic, but something tells Baltor he _will_ remember this.

" _You should know I still feel very responsible, Bloom_." Bloom's voice is mocking as Baltor sits up, trying to regain his breath. " _You don't ever want to feel the emptiness of killing someone, Bloom. I'm sorry for what I did, Bloom._ How stupid did I look, believing all that?"

"Bloom listen to me -"

"You held me when I was month old and tried to _kill_ me after you left my sister for dead!" She fires another blast, and he barely manages to roll out of its path. "Funny how you left out that little detail when I was asking you about the role you played taking the planet down."

"I never thought anyone knew!" He snapped, which - for now - seems to pause Bloom's rampage. As he talks, he starts up a shield around his body. "You resurrected that planet - _our_ planet. No one said anything. You didn't come banging down my door to drag me there for a trial. If more of my past was lost, I considered it a good thing. You _wanted_ me to move forward."

She laughs. "I wanted to move forward because I thought I knew who you were. A manipulator, powerful wizard, someone who tried and failed to hurt my family? Fine. But you didn't fail - you got one out of three."

"Don't take a moral high ground," he scoffs, ignoring the dangerous way her eyes widen, the irises turning red around the edges. "You knew exactly what kind of person I was from the moment you spared me. Having _details_ didn't change that. Daphne was going to die whether or not I was involved - that was the Ancestresses plan from when I first started helping them."

Baltor's eyes are on Bloom's hand and the red ball forming in it when her voice draws his gaze back. "She said she liked you, you know. She sat in front of the entire Council and my parents and said she considered a romantic relationship with you." Bloom shrugs and walks back to the edge of the building, looking out over the sky. The sun is almost completely gone over the horizon. "Who am I kidding though; of course you knew. That's your specialty, right? Tricking girls into thinking you care about them?"

The tone of her voice is meant to sting, and Baltor feels his hands ball into fists. " _Don't,_ Bloom."

"Don't what?" She looks back at him and gives an unfriendly smile. "So which one of us is the better kisser? I know I haven't shoved my tongue down your throat, but -"

He doesn't know why that of all things gets to him, but it does. Anger - at himself, Bloom, the whole situation - boils over in his stomach, and before he thinks better of it, Baltor lets a blast of energy out from his hand, aiming for Bloom's chest.

The years off haven't affected his aim. The blast hits Bloom square in the chest and knocks her off the roof, her wings keeping her from plummeting to the ground. When she looks back at Baltor, his anger is replaced with dread. Her eyes display her emotions like a window, and they hold fury. Bloom raises both her arms to charge a spell and Baltor swears, putting more energy into his shield.

It's been years since they've had an honest-to-goodness, magic-wielding, fight, and Baltor's surprised and almost sickened to find how easily they slip back into it. Bloom hold no punches, the Sirenix energy matching his own blasts with ease. Baltor knows he's the weaker of them, so he does what he does best; uses the terrain to his advantage, relying on the air conditioning units and the structure where the stairs are to provide cover. Pure energy blasts would drain his magic too quickly, so he relies on smaller spells - disorientation and invisibility - while he recharges. At first he tries to hurt her as little as possible, but that goes out the window when she uses her Fire of Sirenix to dislocate his shoulder.

He hones into her Dragon Fire - a much easier feat with her focus on anger instead of blocking him out. Sirenix water-based energy is draining her powers faster than Baltor's using his own. If he can keep her distracted long enough, he knows there's a chance to overpower her.

"I don't suppose _you_ want to tell the landlord about the damage up here," Baltor quips, sending two fireballs her way seconds apart. Bloom's reflexes catch the first one, but the second knocks her wings out, putting her back on the ground. She turns and sends a blast at him, but Baltor dodges and launches another invisibility spell.

Her eyes dart around the roof, and she growls in frustration. "You think this is funny?" He doesn't respond and she throws fireballs towards an air conditioning unit he's favored as cover. He's on the opposite side of the roof, however, slowly walking so he's behind Bloom. "I let my guard down once Baltor, and I hope you enjoyed it because it is _never_ happening again. I am _never_ going to stop hating you! If not for what you've done to my planet, my friends, or my family, then because of what you've made _me_ feel!"

He darts forward and grabs her wrists, wrenching them behind her back and securing them with fire chains - weaker than he used to be able to produce, but still able to block her spells for a few seconds. He starts siphoning her magic from them, hoping to tire her out faster. His other hand jerks Bloom back, keeping her pinned against him. "You think _I_ don't hate how you've made me feel? What a change we've gone through, Bloom. The first time I ever looked at you I wanted to snuff the light out of your eyes. Now I think I would kill anyone who dared try."

Baltor feels her shiver. Bloom tries to struggle against him, but he holds her tight. "That's a lie." she grits out, but he hears fatigue starting to ebb into her voice.

"Is it? Where were we, two, three weeks ago? Sitting downstairs, dancing around the idea of _attraction_ to each other. But of course neither of us said that word out loud, because that would mean admitting we actually could feel it."

"Let me _go_ , so I can push you off this roof like you deserve."

"Have you thought about kissing me again?" He ignores Bloom's threat and is rewarded when her shoulders tense. "I have."

She doesn't respond besides her ragged breathing. Baltor feels her energy dropping, sees a sparkle in her hair that tell him the Sirenix is failing. He needs less than a minute to charge a spell to knock her out - a risky move, but one he _needs_ if he wants to guarantee his physical safety. Once she's unconscious he can go (somewhere) and figure out how to have a rational discussion with her. But first he needs to get to the unconscious step. And running on instinct, he knows it's a step he's willing to play dirty for.

"Not a surprise really. I've always had a bit of an addiction to power; I'm sure you've noticed. And you, Bloom, may just be the most powerful woman in this whole damned universe. I should be honored to _touch_ you."

He feels the heat of a spell charging in her palm, and Baltor slips a hand into hers, snuffing it out. "Ah-ah-ah, I'm afraid you need to participate in the discussion before trying to incinerate me."

Bloom wrenches her hand out of his grasp. "You used to be better at lying, you know."

"I'm not lying now," Baltor says, and in that moment he lets himself accept those words for what they are: fact, not manipulation. "I never wanted to feel attraction toward you, but I do. And what's worse is I want to explore it."

The fire chains around Bloom's wrist dissipate, but she doesn't seem to notice. He pulls back a hand, his final spell coming to life.

"And if nothing else," Baltor concludes, turning his head so his lips brush against her temple. "You should know that. Because I'm sorry."

The spell ready, he tightens his hold on her waist and lets the energy go.

He almost misses Bloom's _oppositus_ over the roar of the magic.

There isn't time to deflect the spell - Baltor knows that. For a moment he wonders where Bloom has even _acquired_ the spell, but in the next his own magic is upon him, leaving nothing but fire and pain until his vision goes red, then black.

* * *

A throbbing headache is what eventually brings Baltor back to consciousness. He's on his back, still on the roof. The color of the sky tells him he hasn't be out for long. Along with his head, the entire left side of his body aches, likely from taking the brunt of the spell.

"There are two things you need to know."

Weakly, he turns his head. Bloom is a few feet away, sitting on the charred remains of an air conditioning unit (with the way this day is going, probably his). Her gaze is on the skyline, face cloaked in the shadows of the night. Her voice is calm, but it's a calculated calm meant to hide emotions.

"Firstly: I will _never_ act on the attraction I have for you. And I want you to know that so you _suffer_."

He wants to snap at her. Say that the idea of him suffering without her is childish. That there is a difference between attraction and love. Baltor says nothing though, pushing himself up onto his knees. Bloom finally turns her head and stands.

"Second: just because you won't be seeing me much after this doesn't mean you're free to become a megalomaniac again. You step off this planet, you make one move, you _look_ at a photograph of a world leader funny, I kill you. Understood?"

He looks up at her - at the fury radiating off her and the almost glow where lights from other buildings catch her face. Only now he realizes she's in a formal dress, dark blue and form fitting and stunning on her. In that moment she's a siren, alluring and deadly and purely his own creation.

"Yes, Your Highness."

She blinks at the formality, and after a moment gives the smallest nod. The sound of tires screeching reaches the roof, and Baltor instinctively turns towards the noise. It's almost as quickly drowned out by a clap of air, and when he looks back, Bloom is gone.

* * *

 _I had_ _ **eye surgery**_ _last week, and can_ _ **finally**_ _look at LED screens without pain. Oh, also I can_ _ **see**_ _out of my left eye. That's cool._

 _We're talking_ _ **soccer-football**_ _here, not_ _ **American football**_.

 _This chapter's trope is the 'Use_ _ **Seduction**_ _to Stop the Enemy.' It's_ _ **not very effective**_ _._

 _You know the drill; this **wraps Season 5** , and then we have some **between-season** chapters, and then we head into **Season 6**. It's gonna be tons of fun._


	21. Long (Part 1)

She doesn't see him for four months.

It's strange; Bloom has never been _scared_ of going to a particular place. Even Cloud Tower, anxious as it's made her on certain occasions, isn't a place she's afraid of going into (at least when it's not being actively taken over by the Trix). But she finds she's scared of going to London now. It's a ridiculous idea; the city itself is huge, with so many people and places to go it seems impossible to run into someone by chance.

But that's exactly what Bloom's afraid of. Because in what feels like not long at all, London has become a second home to her, maybe even more than Magix or the palace on Sparx. Few people recognize her, mostly because she has no reason to be there and partially because they're too busy with their own lives. She likes the mixture of old and new buildings she comes across, the sushi place near Waterloo Bridge, and the Pret a Manger she visits so frequently the baristas are starting to remember her. And she likes -

The thoughts usually stop there, along with a hard pang in her chest.

She _liked_.

Bloom avoids London. Even though part of her screams to go back.

* * *

"Can I ask you something?" Bloom says one sunny afternoon as she and Daphne are in her room, flipping through fashion magazines so her sister can catch up on the latest trends.

Daphne sets the bright pink booklet aside. "Of course."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Bloom says, clarifying when she gives her a questioning look. "About Baltor. You visited me on Pyros, and you said how dangerous he was, but you never told me he _killed_ you."

Her sister goes a little pale, but after a moment sighs. "It...wasn't my proudest moment. Any of it. And I figured if it was lost to time, that wasn't a bad thing."

 _If more of my past was lost, I considered it a good thing_.

Bloom shakes her head. "I just wish I would've known."

Daphne smiles, and reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. "It wouldn't have changed anything. You already knew what Baltor was capable of, and I didn't want to put more pressure on you."

It seems like such a logical reasoning, and it annoys Bloom. And not just because this was the second time she'd heard it in as many weeks. _Why didn't anyone want to tell me this?_

"Hey," Bloom's head snaps up, and Daphne's giving her a concerned look. "Baltor's gone, okay? You shouldn't waste your time thinking about him."

She doesn't trust herself to respond, so she turns back to the magazines. "So, I hear cardigans are in right now."

* * *

Bloom is so used to breaks from school being only weeks at a time. She used to hate them when she'd first arrived in the dimension; there was barely a summer or winter vacation before she had to go back to classes. But now, when she could use the distraction of school, is when Faragonda assigns the longest break in Alfea's history.

"I think we all deserve a good, long rest in light of recent events," she had said at the end of the year assembly. It was the only part Bloom had paid attention to; it had been two days after her duel with Baltor, and everything felt like slow motion. "Not to mention the following year will be an anniversary of my taking over as your headmistress."

Flora had to elbow Bloom so she remembered to clap.

"With such an occasion," Faragonda had smiled out at the crowd. "This year's summer break will be three months instead of one. Not only to prepare the festivities, but to upgrade out West Wing housing. For our long-term students involved in advanced studies."

Everyone had been ecstatic, even Bloom at first. Time to reconnect with Daphne and her parents would be a welcome distraction. But barely half the break had gone by before Bloom found herself wishing for the boredom of school to keep her mind occupied.

"I can't believe you _miss_ school," Roxy chuckles when Bloom visits her at the Frutti Music Bar. "Classes are _insane_ \- we deserve a break."

"Oh we deserve it," Bloom smirks, taking the strawberry smoothie Roxy passes to her. "I just didn't expect to be bored out of my mind."

"Not digging princess lessons?" Roxy asks, and Bloom has to laugh. "I'm pretty happy there's no requirement for me to take Tir Nan Og over from Nebula someday."

"I'm not a princess type - you know that."

"Sure you are. Maybe not in the fancy ball gown, what-fork-goes-with-what-course way, but in a more diplomatic way." The nature fairy holds up a hand before Bloom can protest. "Not politics - that's another story. But you have a clear head. You get people to listen to you, and each other."

"Besides," Roxy continues with a grin, " _some of us_ don't have friends to visit in England on a regular basis."

Bloom's stomach drops. "Got me there."

When she leaves, Roxy gives her a bottle of an expensive looking alcohol. "Give that to Baltor when you see him next, okay? We've been taking bets on this group of college kids who keep coming by...sadly, I've been defeated."

She barely manages to smile. Bloom wants to ask - she _desperately_ wants to ask what Baltor's been like around Roxy, but she's not ready for the barrage of questions that would follow. "No problem. I'll pass it along."

The bottle sits in her closet on Earth, behind several pairs of boots.

* * *

She's still angry - still _very_ angry at what happened. But the more time that passes, and the longer she thinks about it, the more Baltor's excuses make sense to her.

* * *

It's of course the day she finally breaks and goes back to the coffee shop on Picadilly, a week before school starts. Bloom sits in her favorite spot - a leather armchair by the window, sketchbook in her lap and a pencil tapping against her chin, debating how best to draw the sun's glare hitting the windows when she sees a figure emerge from the store across the street.

The pencil falls from her hand.

Bloom has to double take to realize _yes_ , it's Baltor she's staring at. She almost doesn't recognize him without the jacket, but in the midst of summer it's no wonder he's not wearing it. His hair too, is shorter than when she last saw him - not by a lot, but it ends at the middle of his back. There's a bag on one arm, and a book in his hand.

She thinks about an invisibility spell, but knows it would be easily picked up, so she angles the sketchbook to cover her face, watching.

Baltor flips the book open, stepping out of the way of the swarms of people walking down the street. Bloom sees him stop, look around, and then back down at the page. In the back of her head, she feels a tingle; a sign that a spell is working nearby.

A large gust of wind blows the door to the coffee shop open, with such a force there's a sound of drywall breaking. Bloom looks across the street and sees the same happening to the store Baltor stepped out of. And the man in question smirking. A group of teenagers pass by, and when Bloom can see again, Baltor has disappeared.

"You alright, love?" one of the baristas asks, coming over to pick up a magazines that'd blown off the table. "Bit of a scare, eh? Wasn't supposed to be windy at all today..."

"Sorry." Bloom shoves the sketchbook into her purse and stands. "I have to go."

Weather magic. One of the most difficult types to control, but also the most dangerous. Few light-wielders had the skill to control it - witches and dark wizards were normally better suited. _And if Baltor has access to something like that, who knows what he's planning…_

Across the street, Bloom can sense the remaining energy of a transport spell. It's starting to get weak, but there's enough that she can ride the magic trail.

She darts behind a stone pillar holding up the storefront, says a string of words, and vanishes.

* * *

At the point where blinking would bring the world into view, Bloom only sees darkness. Magic - magic that isn't hers - builds up around her, and after a minute, hits her with searing pain. She can't even scream before she feels something _pushing_ , and Bloom lands on her back in what appears to be a dense forest.

She struggles to catch her breath, fighting the searing pain in her neck and shoulders. The feeling of disorientation leaves quickly, as if whatever attacked her was done.

Bloom stands, letting magic build up in her hand. That, at least, seems completely unaffected. She looks around the foliage, fighting the sense of familiarity and trying to seek Baltor through the Dragon Fire. If he had just gone through the same thing, he couldn't be too far away -

"Is everything alright, Bloom?"

She turns sharply, and finds herself face to face with the Major Fairy of Justice, giving her a look that isn't exactly _critical_ , but certainly isn't friendly.

"Sibylla." Bloom takes a breath, letting some of the tension ebb out of her shoulders. "Oh my gosh, you scared me."

The older fairy inclines her head. "My apologies. I felt the cave retaliate against an entry, and came to see who it was. Imagine my surprise."

"The...cave did that?" Bloom asks, but as her eyes adjust she can see it; the entrance to Sibylla's home that she stepped through a little less than a year ago.

"It has its own magic built in; natural, from the Earth itself. I'm sure it's the same as other planets bestowing power onto its inhabitants."

"Or taking away." Bloom thinks of Shadowhaunt, and the terrible draining feeling as she stepped through its caves with Stella, Sky, and Layla. She shakes her head. "I didn't mean to upset it. Actually, I didn't even know I was _coming_ here."

Sibylla raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I was...following someone. Checking in."

"On Baltor?"

Bloom inhales sharply. "You know?"

"I've known of him for quite a while. The Wizards believed the mere knowledge of his existence was a bargaining token." The smile on her face is unfriendly; such an uneasy sight it makes the hair on the back of Bloom's neck. "I spoke with him in the days that followed their defeat, and came to the conclusion he was not a threat. Since then, he has been assisting us."

"Assisting? Assisting how?"

The older fairy shrugs, pointedly ignoring the hardness in Bloom's voice. "Spell collecting, mostly. Nebula thought it was a good idea to collect what ancient magic we could, start to build a timeline of magic here. But other than that...translations, occasional sparring matches."

Bloom tries to wrap her head around it; Baltor spending a year working for Sibylla. An entire year she knew nothing about. The tense feeling in her chest comes back. "You know he has an entire collection of books in his apartment, right? If they were meant for you -"

"I am aware," Sibylla cuts her off with a raised hand. "Of course if the books do not aid us, Baltor is more than welcome to take them. I have no qualms with him - slowly - rebuilding his powers. Especially since most of their dark tendencies are gone."

"...Oh."

She raises an eyebrow again, but this time it's more friendly than condescending. "I see the two of you are not speaking, presently. Or getting along, based on the cave's reaction to you."

Bloom feels her cheeks darken. "No. Not particularly. I don't suppose he's told you why."

"He has." The admission catches Bloom by surprise. "He brought it up to be before your sister's deposition - and I was forwarded the deposition, as the Major Fairies here are keeping up with the dimension's events. It was as he told me it occurred. For the most part."

"Most part? What'd he leave out, trying to kill me?" Bloom can't help her cold tone, the way she automatically crosses her arms.

"Decidedly not. He left out the romantic implications - or that your sister possessed them. I wasn't upset by it. Or," Sibylla gives her a look. "Not nearly as upset as you."

The calm tone in her voice is slowly driving Bloom insane. "So that's it then? You're just... _fine_ with it?"

She sighs, almost disappointed. "Of course not, my dear. I am...disappointed. But I also was not surprised. Something of that nature, given his dark magic and levels of influence -"

Bloom throws her hands up in frustration. "Everyone keeps _saying_ that! That I shouldn't be so angry Baltor did it, given his track record. But I _am_! It's been awhile since the Wizards attacked Tir Nan Og; are you still mad at them?"

Immediately her stomach tightens in embarrassment, but to Sibylla's credit she doesn't give Bloom a dark look. Instead, her expression becomes thoughtful. "I believe there is a difference," she says finally. "Between Baltor and the Wizards. When offered a chance of forgiveness, Ogron and his men wasted it. Baltor has seemed to take his opportunity and make the best of it. But to answer your question; yes. I am still angry. I will likely continue to be angry for a long time. And I can either let that control me, cloud my judgement, or I can work to move past it. I choose to do the latter."

The anger building in Bloom's chest dissipates. "You make it sounds so easy," she mutters.

A hand rests on her shoulder. "I fear my relationship with the Wizards was far less complicated than yours."

Bloom blushes, refusing to meet her eye. "I...I don't know what to think about my relationship with Baltor. In any sense."

"Then perhaps you should take some time alone and figure that out. Not for your planet, not for Baltor, but for yourself."

Bloom shakes her head. "What if I don't like the answer?"

"You may not. But at least you'll _know_ the answer."

Sibylla lets her shoulder go, and steps back. "I must return. Of course you are aware of the rules of the cave -"

"Only those with good intentions can enter." Bloom sighs and looks back at the opening in the rocks. "I didn't come here to be nice, so it threw me out."

"Yes. But unless you plan to come back in the near future, you shouldn't have an issue. You will not need to run the trials again."

It's the first piece of good news she's heard all day. "Thank you. And tell the cave...well, _sorry_ , I guess."

"I believe it knows, but I appreciate your sentiments."

Bloom takes a deep breath. "Sibylla. If I can ask, what's _your_ opinion of all this? On us?"

The Major Fairy pauses, and turns back to look at Bloom. "My abilities have shown me different visions, or pieces of them. For better or for worse, you and Baltor are connected. Much more intensely than two people who share the a magic source normally are. There could be many reasons behind it; that you both operated on virtually opposite ends of that power, or that for almost a year, you were the only two accessing it."

Something in her tone makes Bloom's heart speed up. "Which do you believe?"

"I'm not sure. But I do believe letting that connection die out would not be in either of you best interests. That doesn't mean you need to become romantically involved...but it is not surprising you've been led to that point."

All she can do is nod. "Thank you."

"Of course, dear. It's always a pleasure."

Sibylla turns and walks away, not stopping again. Bloom watches her go, rubbing at her temples as she feels a headache coming on. But instead of dispersing the tingling, the feeling in her head gets stronger.

Bloom looks up. Sibylla is just inside the cave, her head bent talking to someone just out of view. The feeling in her head gets more intense, and after a moment she knows what it is. Her stomach drops.

She should stay. She _really_ should stay, given what Sibylla had just said. But insteads Bloom says the words of a transportation spell, keeping her eyes on the cave as she does so. Sibylla reaches out to the person she's talking to, and then turns and walks inside.

A figure starts to emerge, and the last thing Bloom sees before she disappears is a booted leg.

* * *

 _In light of recent events, it doesn't feel right posting this chapter without addressing them. I chose London as a setting not only for previously mentioned reasons, but also because I've visited many times and it holds a special place in my heart. I stand with it residents, and offer my sincerest condolences to them during this time._


	22. Long (Part 2)

He doesn't see her for four months.

It's almost an easy sentence to say, looking back. Four months pass.

It's easy to fill gaps with words describing events that happen, but if those events are empty, they pose almost no point. The words don't describe the strange, empty feeling in his chest or the days where the only noise he hears comes from passersby on the sidewalk outside. It is a slow and torturous crawl, like Omega (except better because he can move - in most respects _is_ free, but that also seems to make it worse). And like before, he has no one to blame but himself.

* * *

"So how was the vodka?"

(Perhaps calling the last four months 'empty' is overstepping. He doesn't lock himself in his room the whole time like a teenager.)

Baltor glances across the bar at Roxy with a raised eyebrow. "Vodka?"

"From winning the bet of the Summer Migrants?" Roxy stares at him for a moment more before sighing. "I'm guessing Bloom hasn't gotten around to giving it to you yet. Damn, and you missed it; the short-haired one _is_ sleeping with both of them."

He stares at Roxy in a bit of shock. "You gave the vodka to _Bloom_?"

"She was in here a few days ago."

"And she didn't incinerate you at the mention of my name?"

"What? She was quiet, yeah, but -" she stops mid-sentence, her eyes widening. "Oh my god. Are you guys _fighting_?"

Baltor rolls his eyes. Roxy's perceptiveness has come back to bite him on more than one occasion; she could tell more about a person with a single look than some could with an entire speech. So he knows better than to deflect the question, because she'll figure out the answer anyway.

And sure enough, after a moment her jaw drops. "You _are_ , you totally are!"

"Yes, we are. Thank you for the reminder."

" _What. Happened?_ "

"Daphne's deposition to the Magic Council. About how she was killed during the war."

He expects shock or anger, not a raised eyebrow. "I thought you killed a _lot_ of people. The textbooks say you did, anyway. And _Bloom_ of all people knows that."

For the moment, he pushes aside any questions of what a _textbook_ has to say about him. "Indirectly, yes. But even then, there were some I saw to...personally. She has every right to be upset over it."

"Maybe she'll come around?"

Baltor just looks at her. "That...seems doubtful."

"We both know Bloom; instinct first, rationality later. I don't mean she's suddenly going to be all ' _oh I forgive you let's be sort-of-not-really-but-really dating again_ -'" at that Baltor gives Roxy a _murderous_ look she pointedly ignores. "But maybe she'll rethink her actions."

A small flicker of hopes licks at his chest. "Maybe it's best she doesn't."

"Mmm...no."

He raises an eyebrow. "No?"

"Nope." Roxy smiles, reaching under the bar and coming back up with a bottle of alcohol and two shot glass. "That history book may claim to know the deep inner complexities of your mind or whatever, but I've seen you _and_ Bloom after multiple shots of Fireball. And you both wouldn't shut up about each other's eyes."

She fills the two glasses and slides one over to him, shrugging. "Power hungry maniacs with deeply anti-political agendas just don't talk about people's eyes."

No less than four strings of thought start going through his head - mostly he wants to ask what drunk Bloom is like, and what she said about him. But he knows Roxy won't tell him, especially now that she knows Bloom isn't talking to him. Instead, he picks up the glass and tips it to her. "You need to let me read this history textbook."

"Next time you're here," she says, and clinks her shot against his.

* * *

Some days are easier than others. He's spent a great deal of time alone before - even before he began work with the Ancestresses there were few people to speak of. He's used to it, and on most occasions welcomes it.

Four months pass.

* * *

"Where's your girlfriend?" Mrs. Hayes calls one day as he climbs the stairs. "Haven't seen her in while."

"Scared off," Baltor shoots her a particularly annoyed glare. "Local vermin. I really _do_ need to tell the landlord."

She huffs. "If Joel didn't like you so much, I'd petition to have you evicted."

"Thank you."

"...Messed up, huh?"

Baltor stops walking and peers down through the banisters. The old woman's look isn't judgemental like it usually is. It's...resigned. As if she'd seen such things before and kept - foolishly - hoping it would be the last time. He realizes, almost as an afterthought, he has no idea if the bat's ever been married, or has children. Baltor refers to her as old, but in truth she can't be much over sixty (and he's closer to sixty, if he counts the time he spent in Omega).

"It happens," the woman continues, and shrugs. "Best to occupy your time, or you'll be shut in with all your antiques and Britian's Biggest Hoarders'll be at the door. May actually get Joel to evict you, though."

He still doesn't respond, and after a moment Mrs. Hayes sighs in annoyance and goes back to her apartment.

* * *

His hair starts to annoy him one night, when it's blisteringly hot and the humidity makes sweat drip down his back. He's been annoyed, because the books he's looking for have led him on a wild goose chase halfway around the world with no signs of stopping. He should give up and start looking for the one on Sibylla's list about advanced weather magic - at least then he can keep the flat cold without worry of the electric bill.

The annoyance gets the better of him, and Baltor walks into the bathroom, stands in front of the mirror, and says three words.

Ten centimeters from the ends of his hair float gracefully to the floor.

There's really no difference in his appearance. His hair's still long, and it's still hot. He looks at himself in the mirror, and starts to say the spell again, adding in words that will slice the strands near his breastbone.

 _You can't be serious? I can't picture you with short hair! Has it ever even_ been _short?_

 _When I was born, perhaps._

Words catch in Baltor's throat, and he jerks his head to the doorway of the bathroom. It's dark and empty, just as it was before. He looks back at the mirror, then to the pieces of hair on the floor, and sighs.

"Stupid," he mutters to himself. "Stupid, _stupid_ idiot. Should've let her drown when you had the chance."

Except he knows that's not true. He rose buildings from the ocean once for her. Now, he would dive in without a second thought.

He really is weak. Except this is a weakness he can't conquer so easily.

* * *

Just as he hands the book of weather magic to Sibylla, a chill blows through the caves. The aura changes - from one of calm to one of combativeness. He doesn't know how - probably the natural magic the place produces. It's never felt so strong to him. Next to him, Sibylla straightens, her face going very still.

Baltor looks around. Some of the fairies have straightened up and are looking to the Major Fairy for direction. "What? What is it?"

"Stay here," she says, and vanishes. The book falls to the floor with a soft _thud_ , and a moment later the wind stops. Calm comes back over the cavern, and most of the fairies fully lower their spears (though some still seem to be on alert) and go back to talking or flying to their destinations.

Baltor raises an eyebrow and turns to one of the guards - Sibylla's head of security, who he's sparred with on occasion. "What the hell was that?"

"Someone trying to enter the cave," her voice still carries a bit of worry. "Normally the tests would weed out those who come with ill intent. Feels like someone tried to bypass them."

"Can they _be_ bypassed?"

"If you've been here before. Or followed a magic trail here, I guess."

He spends about three seconds trying to think of someone who would've been here before or would use the residual magic from his teleportation spell to get here before he realizes he knows someone who fits both ideas. Dread falls into his gut like a lead balloon.

"How do I get to the cavern entrance from here?"

It's not nearly as far as Baltor would've liked. He barely has enough time to gather his thoughts and start telling himself _it probably isn't even Bloom there_ before he can see the natural light coming in, and see the trees outside.

"Argh! Everyone keeps _saying_ that!"

Baltor freezes in the shadows just beyond the entrance.

He _knows_ that voice.

"That I shouldn't be so angry Baltor did it, given his track record. But I _am_!"

Words have been Baltor's favorite weapon for years; they're little energy, and given the right situation they can sting harder than any spell. For a while, Bloom was his favorite example of it; watching her snap in Cloud Tower after spinning a story about Oritel and Miriam's death. Maybe this is karma coming back for that. Because he's known Bloom was angry; angrier at him than she'd ever been before. But hearing her _still_ angry weeks later somehow makes it worse.

He leans his head against the cold, damp walls of the cave and waits. Bloom stops yelling, which is a good thing, but also means he only picks up on a few words of the conversation. He hears 'relationship' and 'cave' a few times, and footsteps start coming towards him then stop. Then he hears Sibylla.

"I'm not sure. But I do believe letting that connection die out would not be in either of you best interests. That doesn't mean you need to become romantically involved...but it is not surprising you've been led to that point."

And Baltor has no idea what to think of _that_.

A few moments later she walks in, looking less angry but still a bit weary. She shows no surprise seeing him there. "She's unharmed, don't worry."

Baltor straightens. "I wasn't."

"Mmm," she responds, sounding very unconvinced. She reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder. "You two are so alike in ways you don't realize."

He rolls his eyes, because 'you're both so alike' is Sibylla's go-to tactic to get the guards (or even the other Major Fairies) to make up. "Is that so?"

"You're both driven, powerful, self-assertive, stubborn…" she gives him a very pointed look, and then a small smile. "And scared."

Sibylla squeezes the shoulder, then lets her hand fall back to her side. "She's still out there," she says mildly, and begins to walk back into the caverns.

Baltor watches her go, and then turns to look back at the cave entrance.

 _You'll have to see her again, one way or another. If not here then in London - she followed you from there, after all._

He takes a deep breath, activates a protection spell because despite Sibylla he's still a bit leery, and walk outside.

There's a _pop_ of displaces air, and all Baltor sees is the briefest flash of red before he's looking into the empty clearing.

* * *

Four months pass.

* * *

 _8.28.17 - Totally **forgot to mention** ; we're moving into **Season 6** next chapter. Get hyped._

 _I've accidentally fallen in love with_ _ **The Resident Old Bat Mrs. Hayes**_ _in this story. She really was supposed to be a one-off character, but I'm hoping to_ _ **use her more**_ _._

 _ **10 centimeters**_ _is about_ _ **4 inches**_ _._

 _Hate FFN but love this story? Good news!_ What We Do _is will be available on **Archive of Our Own (Ao3)** starting this Wednesday, August 30th under my same pen name, **emberfire411**. Chapters will be posted **weekly**_ _until it's concurrent with the story here. This is because I enjoy **Ao3** , and when the rating of this story finally goes up to M (because **yes kids, it will** ) I won't have to worry about it getting reported._

 _Some minor errors and **repeated words** have been corrected (and in less than a day, too)._


	23. Impair

She knows she should be thrilled.

The palace on Sparx is buzzing with excitement. Daphne's official coronation had happened before Bloom was born, but her parents are eager to throw another one; a symbolic one to show Sparx is back to its former glory with two beautiful princesses and a not-frozen planet to rule over. People all over the dimension are discussing it, planning outfits and posting on gossip sites. Those not gushing over Daphne however, are speculating on whether she and Sky will get along or toss drinks at each other.

But really, even _that_ shouldn't be bothering her (that much).

It's _other_ things. Like the way she gets winded climbing a flight of stairs or feels dizzy if she creates a fireball. Vaguely, she recalls being sixteen, trapped in a block of ice and feeling her body weaken as her magic retreated into a Whisperian Crystal. For the last few weeks, that's all she's felt while watching her friends adapt to using Dragon Fire-based magic. Even Layla's water-sourced spells have - despite all odds - melded perfectly. And that's just left her, breathing heavy at every little spell they perform.

There's a way to recover her magic; Bloom knows. The first member of the royal family to give away parts of the Flame survived; the magic was replenished somewhere. But Bloom has no idea _where_ that place is. Her research hasn't turned anything up, and searching the archives on Sparx will catch her birth parent's attention. And telling the girls would only be a guilt trip, considering she can't recall the magic.

Of course, Bloom's pretty sure she knows _someone_ who can help. But every time she sees her sister, the guilt she feels is strong enough to drive the thought out of her mind. Guilt and anger and sadness and longing and -

She's not sure _what_ she feels anymore. Except weak.

* * *

"You want to be here, don't you?"

She jerks her head, but Bloom finds herself alone in...wherever she is. Somewhere dark, illuminated only a few inches around her. She takes a step, and the light follows. The floors beneath her are a dark color.

 _This isn't right_ , part of her brain says, sounding very far away. _This isn't normal to be in a place with no memory of how you got there._ But another part of her brain tells her this is a very normal situation to be in. There's no reason to worry, so she doesn't.

"Hello?" Bloom calls.

The voice from before says nothing.

Bloom keeps walking until the light illuminates a cream-colored wall. There's an outlet near the bottom, three rectangular openings staring up at her like a moaning face. She shudders and moves on, coming across a small light switch about chest-high. Though that part of her brain is yelling again, she reaches out and flips it.

Light floods into the space, and Bloom looks around. It's a smaller-sized bedroom with white-silled windows on the far wall. There's just enough space for the furniture, and it's just messy enough to look lived in. There are two doors leading to a bathroom and a hallway, but Bloom ignores them and goes toward the bed. Something tickles at the back of her mind, and it comes to her as she runs a hand over the crumpled white linens and grey throw. She _knows_ this room; its piles of books, its worn armchair in the corner, its slightly musty scent from the open windows.

Its windows opening to look out at _London_.

Just as she realizes where she is, two arms snake around her waist and pull her against a chest.

"I thought you were done visiting."

Bloom rolls her eyes, and reaches down to pull the arms away. "I am -"

There's a chuckle in response, and she's turned to face her captor. The arms slip down and around her waist, keeping her close. "That doesn't seem to have stopped you."

"Baltor what are you -"

"Shh..." He puts a finger to her lips, and the words catch in her throat. The touch is soft and cool, and something flares in the pit of her stomach that she hasn't felt in a long time. "How long are we going to keep this up?"

"K-Keep up?"

Baltor smirks lightly. The finger on her lips falls away, only to resurface on the back of her neck and lead her face even closer. Bloom feels warm breath hit her nose and lips, and the contrast of heat makes her nerves ignite. And the magic - after losing so much of her own the last few weeks, the Dragon Fire slowly seeping into her from his fingertips is euphoric. Her eyelids flutter.

"Don't you miss it, Bloom?" he asks softly. "Miss _us_?"

"I-I...um…"

Instead of waiting for a response, Baltor leans down and presses his lips against her throat.

This time her eyes slip shut, and she sighs.

She feels the vibrations go through her as he chuckles. " _Well_?"

" _Yes_ ," Bloom replies, breathily. She wraps her arms around him. "Yes, I miss us."

"Mmm. Right answer." The hand on the back of her neck reaches up and tangles into her hair, pulling her back. Her eyes open, and she finds herself looking into his ice blue irises. "What should we do about that, then?"

" _Anything_."

Baltor gives her a soft, lazy smile as his free hand reaches up to trace her lips. "Is that because of me, or the magic you want?"

She blinks, as though her brain has finally woken up. Her arms, still wrapped around him, slowly drop back to her sides "...What?"

"Do you want me close because you miss me, or because you want back the magic you carelessly gave away?"

The tingling in her nerves goes from euphoric to alarmed.

Bloom tries to step back, but finds she can't move. Something in her expression must change, because Baltor _tsks_ at her. "Your friends are going to be _so_ disappointed to find _they_ killed you instead of me. But it's also a bit ironic, wouldn't you agree?"

He leans in again, and all Bloom can do is grit her teeth. "What to do, what to do? Embrace the cruel villain label you're so intent on sticking me with? Or attempt to be the dashing prince you'll never have, for the sake of winning your affections?"

"Baltor, _please_."

He pulls a hand back, and she sees something bright and red spark to life in his palm. "I suppose I _can_ spare a little magic. It would be more, but, you know. Power's taken away by a child in way over her head."

The fireball grows into a shape she hasn't seen Baltor produce since their battles years ago. "This may sting a bit," he says, almost as an afterthought. "But through the pain, just remember it _is_ your fault we've come to this."

He lets the magic go -

And Bloom jerks awake, covering her mouth so she doesn't scream.

Her eyes dart around. She's on Earth, in her old bedroom in Gardenia. The old analog clock on the bedside table flashed three twenty-seven. Her memory floods back; she'd come to get a dress for the coronation tomorrow, and decided to stay the night where it was peaceful and quiet.

Except the last few weeks, her dreams have been anything _but_ peaceful or quiet. Because every time she closes her eyes, it's a dream about Baltor or how she's lost all her magic, or (as it was tonight) both.

Bloom collapses back against the pillows and snaps her fingers. Her closet door opens, and the bottle of liquor Roxy had given her gently floats over. She twists the cap open and takes a large swig. The burning in the back of her throat pulls her out of slumber and back to reality. Bloom knows she should try and go back to sleep, especially considering how drained she feels without magic _and_ rest. But the thought of having another nightmare like _that_ keeps her awake, staring at her ceiling before she gives up and goes to sketch before the sun rises.

* * *

Bloom never thought the Grand Hall on Sparx could get more festive than it had been when the palace reopened, but she's pleasantly surprised to find the guest for Daphne's coronation in even higher spirits, laughing, eating, and dancing. And drinking.

"How's your dad doing now that you're back at school?" Bloom asks, passing a drink to Roxy.

The Earth fairy laughs. "He's managing, though he isn't happy about it. Luckily Mom's been helping out, but what can I say? No one can mix a mango margarita as well as I can. Ignoring the irony that I'm not even twenty-one yet."

"Of course," Bloom nods in pseudo-seriousness. "No more of those crazy, whatever bets you were running with...your regulars."

"Uh-uh, no can do," Roxy takes a sip of the bubbly liquid. "I know that bottle of vodka didn't _get_ to my _regulars_ , therefore I'm not giving any further information on them."

She blushes. "He told you?"

"Shockingly, I figured it out myself. You guys wincing at the mention of the other's name? _Kind of_ a dead giveaway."

Bloom closes her eyes. "I'll reimburse you for the vodka."

"I don't care about the vodka. I care about you guys." Roxy raises an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"

"I...don't know." She sets her drink down on the table and sighs. It's strange being able to talk about Baltor with _anyone_ , but at this point Bloom will take what she can get. "I feel like I'm trapped in a circle of 'I overreacted' and 'I'm justifiably pissed' that won't change no matter how I look at it."

Roxy nods, slowly. "And you guys _do_ spend a lot of time circling around each other."

"In what sense?"

"In _every_ sense," Roxy shoots back, giving Bloom a pointed look. "I'm not saying you shouldn't be mad - hell, I'm pretty sure he _expected_ you to be mad about this. But _maybe_ having a dramatic 'I never want to speak to you again' wasn't the best call?"

Bloom bites her lip and says nothing.

The other girl puts a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe meet in a neutral zone and talk it out? Like the Frutti Music Bar, where you'd both feel too guilty to try and destroy anything?"

A wave of weakness - much too common for her liking at this point - washes over her, and she grips the table to steady herself. She tries to be discreet, but she fails when Roxy's expression turns worried. "Or maybe," Roxy says, taking Bloom's other arm to steady her. "You'll pass out before that point."

"I-I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. What's going on? Something with your powers?"

Bloom fights though the feeling of disorientation and straightens up. "N-No. I'm just tired; I couldn't sleep last night."

She looks unconvinced. "You expect me to believe that?"

Bloom tries to think of a lie to appease her friend , but before she can open her mouth someone taps her shoulder.

"Excuse me, ladies," the voice says, and she and Roxy turn to see Sky, a small smile on his face. "I hate to interrupt, but I was hoping to borrow the princess for a dance."

"You're not interrupting," Bloom says before Roxy can say anything else. "And I'd love to."

Sky glances over at Roxy. "That okay, Boss?"

Roxy glances between them and sighs. "As if me saying no would be a factor." She leans over and whispers loudly. "But just a warning; _someone_ is a bit on the sleepy side. I'd mind your feet." She gives Bloom a ' _we're not done talking about this yet_ ' look, but steps away nonetheless, stopping to squeeze Sky's shoulder.

The Eraklyon Prince watches her go with mild interest. "I know _you_ said I wasn't interrupting..."

"We're okay. Really, I'm just tired," Bloom smiles as she slips a hand into Sky's, and they walk out on the dancefloor as the music starts. "But hey, asking for a dance? I guess this makes me the favorite ex-fiancé."

He snorts, then does his best to cover it up. "Honestly? _That's_ starting to be the worst part of this. Ever since the news broke, Diaspro's been by every other week to 'comfort me.' Apparently what the tabloids are saying is _just awful_."

Bloom bites her lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sic her back on you."

"Nah, don't be." He sighs. "I just need to suck it up and confront her, but...you know."

Bloom smiles sadly. "Yeah, I do."

Sky raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment further. "So, what's been happening? According to a tabloid out of Magix, you're dating the son of a Linphea councilman _and_ Brandon."

She can't hide the snort of laughter as well as Sky can. "Well thank goodness _someone_ finally told me who's involved in my love life. It sure beats -"

Bloom cuts off as another wave of weakness goes through her body. Despite the frequency of them over the last few hours, this one immediately feels different. It stronger, like she's been running on fumes and only now has figured it out. Bloom missteps, and it takes all of her energy not to topple over.

The grip on her arms tightens. "Bloom? Bloom, you okay?"

She looks at Sky, and even though he's standing a foot away, she feels like she's looking at him through a tank of water. "I-I...I'm…"

Another wave comes on, stronger. Bloom's knees give out. She hears someone scream. The music stops.

Footsteps come closer. "What happened, Sky? Is she…fading in and..."

"...Dancing...Daphne... what's _wrong_ with her?"

Bloom sees things in fragments. The matching blonde hair of Sky and her sister as they lean over her. The intricate patterns that decorate the ceiling. Roxy and the Winx standing at the edge of the crowd, looking extremely worried.

"...can't sustain herself...take her to her room..."

She feels herself being lifted, and Sky's voice reaches her ear. "You're gonna be alright, Bloom. We'll figure this out, okay?"

She tried to speak, but all that comes out is a low groan. Bloom perceives how low it sounds compared to her normal voice, and tries again. It's the same result. She clears her throat -

And then hears it again.

"Fire Eaters!" a shrill voice screams.

The growl turns into a roar, and Bloom sees a flash of a grey creature before her vision goes black.

* * *

 _I don't know about you guys, but_ _ **I smell a reunion**_ _! Spoiler alert: I can smell it because I wrote it_ _ **before**_ _this chapter. Which means update next week (or uh, I don't know,_ _ **maybe sooner**_ _, depending on feedback? Either way at the_ _ **latest**_ _, you'll wait a week.)_

 _This chapter's popular_ _ **trope**_ _is dreaming about your S.O._

 _If you've ever watched_ _ **Torchwood**_ _, more specifically the episode_ _ **Something Borrowed**_ _, you know exactly how this dream sequence feels._

 _All right, remember we're honest here, so I can tell you this chapter_ _ **isn't supposed to exist**_ _. Going through my outlines I realized I skipped over a 'Bloom' chapter (because_ _ **spoiler**_ _: if you haven't figured it out yet these chapters alternate between Bloom and Baltor), and I would never forgive myself for ruining this great pattern._


	24. Wake

He wakes up, and not in any normal way.

"Roxy what the hell -"

"We have to go _now_!"

"It's -" Baltor glances at the clock by his bed. "Two in the morning; how did you even get _in_ here? Honestly an alarm system may not be -"

"Bloom's in trouble!"

 _That_ comment snaps him out of a sleepy haze, and only then does he really notice Roxy; that is, that she's dressed in a white and green dress with her hair done up in a complex braid. "What?"

"Daphne's coronation - re-coronation, whatever. It's happening and suddenly Bloom was out cold and there were these _things_ trying to attack her and...look, Bloom divided up the Dragon Flame between the Winx so they could fight the witches."

"She did _what_?"

"And I don't think she has enough power left herself. And Sky with his creepy ex and a vortex and I am _terrible_ at explaining things -"

"You are." Baltor throws the covers off and snaps his fingers, his clothes switching out for his usual attire. "So take me there and _show_ me."

Roxy looks relieved and nods. A moment later, they vanish.

* * *

Baltor's ears ring with the sound of crumbling stone and low groans. He looks around the hallway they've materialized in; there's a large hole in the wall a few meters down, but the pile of rubble seems too large to be from that alone. Baltor kneels down and levitates a particularly large stone to eye level. A crude looking face is eroded into the rock, the two 'eyes' full of a black substances. He reaches in and pinches some between his fingers.

Ash.

"I heard Daphne before I left," Roxy says behind him. "She said they were called -"

"Fire Eaters," Baltor shakes his head. "They've been extinct for over a thousand years."

Roxy raises an eyebrow. "The Trix?"

"Let's hope it's _just_ them." Baltor rubs the ashes off his fingers and stands. "Where was the last place you saw Bloom?"

"Around here," Roxy bites her lip. "Being carried by Sky's cousin and Princess Diaspro to some place called the vortex."

" _What_?"

She sighs, exasperated. "Why do you think I came and got you? The rest of the girl's are keeping those things at bay, Sky was knocked out, and Bloom's _way_ too weak to take anything on right now. Everyone's always saying Diaspro's trouble -"

"Which is putting it mildly," Baltor mutters. Somehow, Diaspro's involvement doesn't surprise him; he recalls Erendor mentioning she'd been forgiven by the Eraklyon royal family, but at that moment all Baltor remembers is the cruel glint in her eye when he offered her a love potion. "You said something about a Vortex? You mean the Vortex of _Flames_?"

"I think so?" Roxy's eyes go wide when she sees the look on Baltor's face. "I take it that's a very bad thing?"

"Yes. Come on," he starts off down the hallway, trusting her to follow. "If we follow the servants passages we shouldn't be seen."

There's a flash of light, and a few seconds later Roxy catches up to him, transformed. "What's gonna happen if Diaspro takes Bloom there?"

"If she was at full power? Bloom would likely overpower the negative energy of the Vortex, recharge her power, and destroy the Fire Eaters in the process."

"And since _that's_ not happening?"

"The vortex overpowers her and removes all traces of the Dragon Flame. Permanently."

When he glances back at Roxy, her face is pale. "Sorry I asked."

* * *

Given the time he's spent off Sparx, Baltor's surprised how well he navigates the old servant halls. They appear to be unused now, covered in cobwebs and dust, some doors sealed shut. Though their disuse probably has to do with him, Baltor doesn't mind; it gives them a guaranteed path to the basement level of the palace. Aside from a distant roar of Fire Eaters, they don't hear anything else until they come out on a crumbling ledge bathed in red light.

"Okay," Roxy says mildly, "so there really _is_ a creepy vortex in the basement of the palace. The magic dimension is a lot weirder than I thought."

Baltor doesn't respond, going as close to the ledge as possible. Maybe six meters below is giant, pulsating core of fire. Given the monsters wreaking havoc on the royals above, it's no surprise that the magic coming from it feels almost agitated. "It's upset."

"Upset?" Roxy flies over to him. Her look is skeptical. "It's a ball of fire."

Underneath them, the vortex flares.

Baltor gives her a pointed look. "Hasn't Faragonda drilled the 'everything has its own voice and essence' lecture into your head?"

Above them, someone screams.

Baltor drags Roxy back, so they're concealed in the shadows of the ledge. They crane their necks upwards to the top of the hole the vortex is in. Flying near the ledge, too far to see a facial expression, is a blonde fairy with a simple transformation. Baltor's eyes narrow as he takes in the Princess of Isis for the first time in three years.

"Diaspro, don't you dare!" A male voice yells from above, and Baltor watches the girl in question fire a spell to drag something over the ledge and dangle above the vortex.

Except the something isn't a something at all. It's a some _one_.

Roxy gasps, and Baltor's heart freezes as he sees Bloom, not even twitching in Diaspro's binds. What scares him even more than her being unconscious is that he couldn't even feel her presence through the Dragon Fire - something on her side is too weak or not connecting.

"What do we do?" Roxy whispers under the shouts from above. "If magic can't get close to that thing - "

"Dragon Fire," Baltor corrects, and looks over at her. "It responds to Dragon Fire. _Your_ magic…"

"Won't trigger it." she finishes, and very slowly smiles. "Is Diaspro actually stupid enough to try and throw her in here?"

And almost as if answering her question, Diaspro lets her magic go.

There's a hot rage that takes over Baltor, but it almost as instantly cuts off as he sees a figure jump from the above ledge in an attempt to grab Bloom. It's poorly thought out, considering the momentum wouldn't be enough to get them both to the other side of the hole, and that fact alone clues Baltor in that it's Sky who's done it. "Oh for -" he starts.

And then a hand reaches over the ledge and pulls him back.

Baltor doesn't have time to wonder who is it that rescues the prince. With a nod to her, Roxy launches her own magic. A thin layer of pink darts out and wraps around Bloom like a cocoon. It stops her fall, a few feet over the center of the vortex. The tension rippling through the flames dissipates, and just as quickly starts rebuilding. But something in it feels much angrier.

"She's unconscious," Roxy warns, waving her hands in a circular motion. Her spell lifts Bloom away from the epicenter, and up to the ledge she and Baltor are on. "And the fire pit does not feel like it's preparing anything nice for us. I'm shielding it; take her while I do."

Weakness isn't something to show in a fight, but for the first time Baltor finds he doesn't care. He pulls Bloom into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as Roxy's magic fades. For those few seconds he allows himself to feel relief; not only at her being safe now, but also for the time he's spent away from her. And then he gets to work.

Baltor shifts the girl in his arms to get a better look at her. She looks to still be in one piece, but even being jerked around by three different people hasn't woken her up. It's the most troubling thing, to Baltor. He reaches for her hand, pressing two fingers to the inside of her wrist. Her pulse is weak, but beyond that he feels for her Dragon Fire. Maybe more importantly, the Flame.

There's barely a flicker of magic. He knows what that means.

"You were serious," Baltor mutters. "She divided the Flame - not her own personal magic but the _Flame_ itself, and she barely has any power - damn it! You _stupid_ girl, what the hell were you thinking?"

"Can you _do_ something?"

Baltor's already ahead of her, transferring his own magic to Bloom as fast as it can leave his body. "I can wake her up, I think. After that, the Vortex should be able to recharge her, but that's only if it's clear of negative energy."

"Negative energy like the five-headed dragon that's forming in there?"

"What?" He looks back over the ledge, _hoping_ he's heard wrong. Of course he hasn't. Of course there's an actual five-headed dragon forming in its epicenter. Baltor sighs in frustration. "Yes. That would be bad. Keep that shield up."

"Yeah, no worries there."

"Mmph…"

Baltor's head snaps back down. Bloom stirs weakly in his arms, her head slowly lifting from where it was cradled in his shoulder. Slowly, Bloom's eyes blink open and look around at the crumbling structure around her before turning, and falling on him. Baltor holds his breath, unsure of what else he _can_ do. Bloom looks up at him -

And groans, letting her head fall back. "God, what do I have to _do_ to make you stop showing up? First the dreams, now hallucinations -"

Baltor raises an eyebrow. He wants to ask - he _so much_ wants to ask what the dreams are. But there are more pressing matters to deal with. "Bloom, this isn't a dream. You need to focus."

"Guys!" Roxy calls, and Bloom's gaze snaps to her. "I know you both kind of hate each other right now, but fighting a scary fire dragon alone isn't going well!"

Bloom blinks at her, and then looks back at Baltor. Tentatively she reaches a hand out, and almost immediately yanks it back when her fingers brush his cheek, as if she wasn't actually expecting to touch anything. She opens her mouth, then closes it. "... _Baltor_?" Her voice isn't angry or upset, instead it's - he dares to think - hopeful.

He smiles before he can stop himself. "It's me."

" _Guys_!"

A cone of fire goes right over Baltor's head and hits the wall behind them. The brute force of it rattles the ledge they're on, knocking them both onto their backs. He hears Bloom yell.

Baltor stands up as quickly as his body will allow. Fire leaps up past the ledge they're on, Roxy's shield their only protection from incineration. The ground starts to heat up, and all Baltor can hear now is the roar of a creature that sounds very, _very_ angry.

"What _is_ that?" Bloom's voice somehow reaches him over the noise.

"In short? A negative manifestation of the Vortex of Flames that's defeated through brute force of Dragon Fire. We get rid of it, you get your powers back."

"How did you know -"

"A discussion best saved for later!" he yells, and offers a hand to help her up. She stares at it for a second longer than necessary before she nods, and slips her palm into his. Very faintly, Baltor feels the spark of their powers connecting, and something about it gives him an idea.

"Use my power."

"What?"

"Alone neither of us are going to take that thing out. But if I pull magic from the Vortex and feed it to you...it should filter most of the darkness out, pack enough energy to defeat it, and restore your powers."

"But it'll also restore yours."

Baltor blinks at the coolness of her voice. He looks at her more carefully and sees that anger coming back into her eyes. Annoyance starts to build in his chest, because that honestly wasn't a thought Baltor had even had coming into this - _everything_ had been about her.

Baltor pushes the annoyance away. "It will. And once all this is over you can take that power right back."

"How do I know you won't leave before I can?"

He reaches out and takes her hand again, keeping his gaze level with hers. "Because I swear to you I won't." Bloom says nothing, and his grip tightens. "I know you're angry - you _deserve_ to be angry. But Bloom - I need you to trust me, even if it's just for a minute. I _need_ you."

The looks in her eyes softens, barely. It's another pause that seemingly feels like forever before she calls: "Roxy, get ready to drop the shield."

"On it! Also, for your records; this was _not_ the neutral discussion ground I meant."

Baltor raises an eyebrow and Bloom actually chuckles as they turn to face the vortex. Fire beats against the shield, and just through it Baltor sees the outline of a large, multiple-headed dragon. He takes a deep breath and places his hands on her shoulder. "Ready?"

He feels her exhale. "Do you remember," Bloom asks, almost lightly, "When we were on Tides the first time? And you said we were destined to be enemies?"

The memory makes him shiver. "I do."

"Do you still think that now?"

Baltor leans down to the shell of her ear, and for the first time allows himself to be straightforward. "No."

Slowly, Bloom nods. "Roxy? On your mark."

The nature fairy slowly flutters back to the ground, and a few moments later lets her hands fall back to her sides. The stream of magic cuts off, along with the shield. Baltor closes his eyes, feeling the magic around him. He hones into the Vortex of Flame, feeling its limitless power bubbling in such a small space, and calls it to him.

Magic leaps into his body, and passes through to Bloom where they touch. There's a moment's pause before he hears her yell, and the darkness behind his eyelids lights up with fire, shades of red and blue and purple that he's seen illustrated in books but never in person. Something inhuman screams.

He manages to open his eyes, sees the large stream of fire from Bloom's outstretched hands hitting the body of the dragon. Around them is an almost imperceptible shimmer of a green shield; probably Roxy's doing to block out the wind and heat. He makes a mental note to thank her after this, and maybe buy her that expensive rum she likes.

The power flowing from the vortex is what Baltor used to imagine the Flame felt like. For a moment he recalls the desire he'd had to take it, how _angry_ he was when Daphne withered in front of him and nothing happened. That possessive desire to _take_ that filled him like a rage. It was darkness, the Ancestresses had told him, and nothing motivated a person like that blackness did.

But he knows now that isn't true. He _can_ take all of this power for himself; let the dragon stay in the vortex and destroy the palace. He already feels twice as powerful as he's been in the last few years, and the energy high would get him through at least one raid of a spell collection; maybe even the one here. But he wants none of it. Not now. He wants -

Baltor pulls Bloom against him as her shoulders start to shake from fatigue. "You can do this," he murmurs in her ear. "I _know_ you can. Come on, Bloom, _come on_."

Something - maybe her hand, maybe a hallucination - squeezes his arm, and Baltor siphons a large fragment of magic through their connection. He hears Bloom yell - not in pain, but in determination - and a light so bright Baltor has to close his eyes envelops them.

The roar of the dragon abruptly stops. The next moment he has to step away from Bloom, because he feels something start to beat against his arms in a struggle to get free.

 _Wings_.

Dark blue scales envelop Bloom like a second skin, airy fabric falling into sleeves and a skirt. It's a form Baltor hasn't seen in any book before, but has no doubt it's a result of beating the darkness in the Vortex. He lets the connection to power source fall away, but feels almost no magic leave his body. _Your powers_ , a voice in the back of his head yells. _They're back, and at the levels they were before!_

He ignores it and stares at Bloom, watching her take in her new attire with a small, wondrous smile on her face. "That...worked. Oh my gosh, we did it!" She turns and reaches out as if she's going to hug him -

And them abruptly stops.

"Sky. And Daphne. I've gotta get back up there," Bloom says, craning her neck up. "Before those Fire Eaters find them _or_ my parents. Roxy, I need you on damage control; make sure everyone's gotten out of the palace. And -"

"I'm going after Diaspro."

Bloom turns back to look at Baltor. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Wh- am I sure that's a good idea? Forgive me, but didn't she just try to _incinerate_ you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Exactly why it may not _be_ such a good idea. Knowing you and your track record -"

"Oh for god's sake Bloom, you think I'm going to kill her?"

Bloom just looks at him.

"I am tracking her down and dumping her right back here to face your father, Erendor, and King Midas. And then I'm getting out of here before anyone sees me."

Baltor stares her down, watching emotions flicker in her eyes before they change to something unreadable. "I'm still angry." she says, finally. "But I don't want to be anymore."

He wants to kiss her, he realizes. It's an urge that comes on so suddenly he has to fight it and remember they're in the middle of the royal palace on Sparx, and the longer he's there the more likely he'll be discovered.

In the end he settles. "Then when this is all over, you should come talk to me."

Though he'll never admit it, he's scared of what her reaction to that will be. So instead of waiting to see it, he says three words of a spell, and vanishes.

* * *

Tracking Diaspro down is easy. Laughably so. Mostly it's because she hasn't gotten far; a few miles from the palace near an old, naturally-occurring portal. Baltor knows it well; he used it in the past to slip on and off the planet without detection.

As often as the girl operated outside of the magic dimension's law, he's surprised to see how uneasy she is, pacing around in an open clearing with a worried look on her face. He barely crunches a twig before she swings in his direction, magic flaring in her palm.

"Who's there?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Not wanting to engage in dark magic again was one topic, in Baltor's mind. Revenge...that was another entirely. There wasn't any sense of regret as he threw out a spell, pinning the blonde woman against a tree and securing her with fire chains (much stronger than he'd made during his fight with Bloom). And there's something so, _so_ satisfying, watching Diaspro's face turn pale and frightened as he steps out into the clearing.

" _Baltor_. B-b-but you're -"

"Dead?" he asks coolly. "That is the official story, isn't it? Unfortunately for most, it was _greatly_ exaggerated."

Daispro's primilary shock starts to wear off. She smirks. "Well that may be the best news I've heard all day. With your help -"

"Help?" Balor laughs at that, and there's a sick satisfaction, watching Diaspro's face fall from her usual collected smirk back to uncertainty. "My dear girl, what makes you think I'm here to help you?"

"I...well, why wouldn't you be?"

He rolls his eyes. "Perhaps my motives have changed. Perhaps I'm involved with other parties. Or _Perhaps_ ," at this he twitches a finger, and the chains around Diaspro tighten. She yelps in pain "You're now meddling in things I find unacceptable."

Her eyes widen. "You mean... _Bloom_?"

Baltor smirks at her and snaps his fingers. In the next instant they're back at the palace, in the back gardens closest to the mountains. "I once found you promising, Diaspro. But all of that promise has eroded into a naïve little girl who thinks killing will make Prince Sky love her again. If that's what we can even call it."

"And _you're_ such an expert on love?"

Though unintentional, the comment stings. Instead of responding, he snaps again, and more chains wrap around the princess, keeping her in the center of a circle, maybe a meter wide. "I may not be an expert on _love_ , but I am one on manipulation. This spell deactivates when someone steps inside the circle. Which at this rate will be the guards coming to arrest you for the attempted murder of the Princess of Sparx."

Her eyes go wide with fear; something Baltor's rarely seen on her. "Y-You can't do that!"

"I think I can. And I think I will."

"No!" Diaspro screams, sounding more like a child throwing a temper tantrum than a grown woman. "You're going to help me or...or...I'll tell Oritel and Miriam you're here! I'll tell _everyone_ you're here."

He laughs openly at that. "Oh, don't let me stop you. Please, run to them right now and say I showed up telling you to stay off Sparx and leave their daughter - my sworn enemy - alone. I'm sure it'll go over swimmingly."

"They'll figure out it was you! If you were down there in the Vortex of Flame, _someone_ had to see you! Someone -" she cuts off, her eyes narrowing. "Bloom. You were with _her_. It _has_ to be."

"So you're going to tell Oritel and Miriam I'm alive _and_ working with Bloom?" Baltor raises an eyebrow. "I think I'm experiencing déjà vu; haven't you tried this before?"

"Except this time I'm right."

"And even if you are, it's the word of a disgraced princess against the realm's sweetheart, and a dead sorcerer." Baltor gives her a cruel grin and _finally_ , sees Diaspro slouch as realization sets in. "It's nothing personal, my dear. Just tying up loose ends.

"And as much as I would _love_ to stay and catch up," he continues, turning his back on her. "I have other places to be. You have - oh, maybe ten minutes until someone finds you? I'd use that time to work out the kinks in your story. You'll need every last second."

He starts to stroll off, far enough so he can teleport without Diaspro following his magic trail, when the girl speaks again. "You can't do it forever, you know."

Baltor turns back to look at her. "What?"

"Staying hidden." There's defeat in Diaspro's voice now, but there's also an assurance she didn't carry before. "You may have lasted this long, but you won't be able to forever. You're an open book in _some_ places, Baltor. And the most obvious is your desire to be seen. Nothing can erase that from your personality - even the redheaded goody two-shoes." At this she actually smiles. "You can't do it."

Something in that speech scares him - even more than realizing the feelings he has for Bloom. But does his best to mask it. At least until he turns back around so Diaspro can't see his face. "Really? _Watch me_."

This time as he walks off, she makes no move to stop him.

* * *

 _Holy shit I should bribe you guys with updates_ _ **more often.**_

" _These will be_ _ **small chapters**_ _," I say as I write one that's about_ _ **4.000 words**_ _._

 _ **Midas**_ _, the king of the planet of_ _ **gemstones**_ _. Get it?_

 _As everyone knows,_ _ **it's November**_ _! And as my_ _ **long-time**_ _readers know, that means I don't update in order to participate in_ _ **NaNoWriMo**_ **.** _This year is (sadly) no different. So I'll see you all bright and early on December 1st!_


End file.
